A Little Piece of Heaven
by Gentle Kiss
Summary: Humanity is not bound by compassion or love, but by the heavy chains of hatred and revenge. Rated M for language, violence, and suggestive themes. Izaya x OC x Shizuo
1. It Feeds Like Cancer

**[AN]** Hello! 1st ever chapter of my first ever fanfiction. I don't usually write stories, I'm more of a poet than anything, so this is new for me. I hope you enjoy this journey as much as I do. I hope.. I would be grateful if you review my story and offer some tips or advice. Constructive criticism! I'll respond as often as possible. Chapter updates will be every other weekend. Please forgive me for such infrequent updates. Mizuki Shimizu is my own character. I named the fanfiction "A Little Piece of Heaven," a song by Avenged Sevenfold. You'll understand why if you read the story and have listened to the song. Thank you A7x for inspiring me to write about some more insanity! Muahahaha!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Durarara! or any of its characters. If I did, I'd put myself in it so I could meet Shizu-chan and Izaya

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**Chapter 1: It Feeds Like Cancer**

_Humans are such fickle beings. After every war, cataclysmic event, or technological breakthrough, they find it necessary to alter the definition of 'humanity' and 'righteousness' to fit the changing society that has emerged from the ashes of the previous one. So when will it end? When will those two simple words finally be set in stone? _

_Only when the day comes that God sets foot on Earth to teach his children their meaning. That day, that glorious, promised day, is just overhead. _

Gasping for breath, but it took me a few moments to catch it. I had woken up, disrupted from my distressing slumber, only to be plunged into the darkness of the night when my eyes snapped open, the only light being that which the crescent moon reflected overhead. One of the reasons I chose this place to live was because of the sky window in the master bedroom of the apartment. It was a bitch when the sun started shining, flooding my room with light, but at night before going to sleep I liked to gaze up at the moon, wondering who was doing the same.

I turned my head to look at the alarm clock. 3:17 AM. I had just gone to sleep half an hour ago, but the nightmare I had seemed to last for an eternity. Time really was an illusion.

Grumbling, knowing I wouldn't be able to fall asleep for a while, I pushed off the silk sheets, bathing my skin in the moon's light. I admired the way moon light caused pale flesh to glow. Then it hit me.

_**"Glowing flesh, bathed in blood and moonlight."**_ I grimaced at the whispering that echoed in my head, the voice ironically sounding very angelic. Thoughts like these swam through my head like a shark, waiting for the opportune moment to arise. Not thoughts. It was something else's voice inside my head, not mine. I knew I wasn't schizophrenic.

Bitterly laughing at this, I swung my legs off the side of the bed, the bare pads of my feet barely touching the wooden floor before I actually stood up. It'd be another hour before I'd be able to fall asleep again, so I thought I might as well busy myself by getting something to eat. Insomnia can be quite inconvenient, especially if you have school in about five hours, but it's better waking up in the middle of a nightmare than having to endure it until it fades away into the blissful, subconscious blackness of the Dream Realm.

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away," I muttered, my small hands wrapping around one of the red fruits. This one was particularly shiny, like someone spit on it and rubbed it with a cloth. I didn't turn on any of the lights on my way to the kitchen, so there wasn't much light reflecting off of the skin, but somehow it still had that sleek look to it.

I should have predicted what would happen before I sunk my teeth into that forbidden fruit.

My mouth was wrapped around a still-beating heart, its life blood being pumped out of it. I screamed, hurling the thing into the darkness, and heard the thunk of an apple hitting the wall. I stood there, breathing heavily, staring at it as it started to roll to my feet.

Shit," I muttered, my fingers reaching for my lips, half expecting them to be stained red. When I looked at my hand to find no trace of blood there, I momentarily closed my eyes in relief, then knelt down to pick up the apple. I ended up throwing it straight in the trash, my appetite curbed. This sort of thing happened to me frequently now. At first I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me or something, but after a while I had only one possible explanation; Something had crawled inside my head and was trying to make me think I was crazy. Or maybe it was the insomnia and lack of sleep that was causing these hallucinations. I ended up taking some sleeping pills, swallowing them without any water, and got into bed once more.

"Maybe I am crazy," I mumbled, pulling the sheets up to wrap protectively around me. I felt like a little kid again, thinking that a thin sheet could act as a shield against monsters, except only these monsters were in my head, and so I now had even less of a chance to ward them off with a damn blanket. Sill, I tugged the black sheet up to my chin, laying on my side so that I wouldn't be facing the moon that hung ominously above me. Luckily, the pills started to kick in after a few minutes, and eventually I drifted into one of the deepest sleeps I had had in a while. Maybe destiny had enough of torturing me for one night.

**A Little Piece of Heaven**  
**0o0o0o0o0o0**

It was the first period bell and for once I wasn't exhausted. I was still a bit groggy from my overall lack of sleep, but this was definitely an improvement. I wasn't late for once yet Yabusaki Sensei was still glaring at me. I got straight A's and my national test scores were pretty high, since I ranked number six in the entire country. He probably hated me because I slacked off, was always late, and never studied, but somehow I soaked up information like a sponge. Jealous bastard.

Yabusaki Sensei started rambling on about the theory of quantum mechanics, so I immediately stared off into space out the window. I already knew the entire chapter we were on, so I didn't have to pay attention. My thoughts were disrupted by my sensei yelling my name, pointing at me with his bony finger. "Shimizu-san! Were you listening?"

"No," I admitted shamelessly.

"Well... Pay attention or you'll stay after for supplementary classes." It was an empty threat, probably because of the fact that although this man hated me, he also knew that his attempts would go unnoticed. He could give me a thousand detentions and I still wouldn't care. It'd just be a waste of his time.

I continued thinking about absolutely nothing for the remainder of the school day. It was pointless in my opinion to have to finish school, but thankfully it was my last year. I never really stood out in a crowd. I didn't talk much, pretty much minding my own business. I was a wallflower.

Kida Masaomi was one exception. When I was lurking through the halls, being all 'dark and mysterious' and what not, about to leave school, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me uncomfortably close. Masaomi was the biggest flirt I knew and wasn't afraid of displaying his affection towards me, or rather anyone for that matter. I didn't mind but I never flirted back.

"Mizuki!" he sang, his voice echoing in the hall. He was the kind of guy who didn't think twice about causing a scene. He was loud and obnoxious, but it was my favorite trait of his. It was refreshing.

"Ah, Masaomi-kun," I said nonchalantly, looking at him. He was slightly taller than me, standing at 170 centimeters. I was a mere 152 centimeters and all of my friends (all three of them) teased me about it.

"Did you hear?" He asked anxiously, as if knowing the answer already.

"No."

"Do you want to?"

"Not particularly."

"Well, if you insist!" he exclaimed, ignoring me. "Heiwajima Shizuo got his ass kicked single handedly yesterday." I raised an eyebrow at this, the only sign that I was shocked. Mostly because I hadn't heard of this until now.

"Yeah, right," I muttered, skeptical. If it was true, I would have found out sooner.

"Seriously! He's in the hospital as we speak, recovering from what seemed like an animal attack." I noticed how his face fell at the mention of the word hospital. Kida Masaomi had a dark past that he didn't want anyone to find out that he blamed himself for. I'd feel bad if I actually had emotions or empathy.

"Animals don't roam the streets of Ikebukuro, and no dog could ever pose a threat to Heiwajima-san. Maybe a bear, though I doubt even that, but last time I checked this wasn't a forest."

"They say he had chunks of skin taken off of him by something with big teeth and claws. He's lucky to even be alive."

"They?" I interrogated him just as we exited the main doors of Raira Academy, walking into the sunlight. I squinted my eyes, momentarily blinded, but thankfully I didn't burn into a pile of ashes.

"A friend told me she heard from Orihara." He spit out the surname of the infamous informant like it was poison in his mouth. I didn't blame him. From what I had heard, Orihara Izaya was one hell of an asshole.

"I'll find out more," I said, and he smiled at me, his hand now slipping down to my waist.

"Mizuki! You're such a hero." He laughed, and I pushed him away.

"Aw, come on."

We waited at a stop sign for Sonohara Anri and Ryugamine Mikado. They arrived minutes after us, Mikado waving and Anri smiling shyly. Mikado was an average looking guy, and Anri was a shy, bespectacled girl with a lot going for her in the boob department, which Masaomi pointed out all the time.

"Masaomi. Shimizu-sempai," Anri said to us, her voice quiet but relaxed. I nodded my head in acknowledgement and Masaomi instantly starting hitting on her as we began to walk.

Mikado looked at me and smiled, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. We stayed a few paces behind Anri and Masaomi and silently followed behind.

"So, Mizuki-sempai. How are you?" Mikado's vague attempt to break the silence between us was half-hearted. He already knew what I was going to say. It was hard to have a casual conversation with me.

"Fine," I replied, to which he looked up at the clouds and raised his hand to block the sun from his eyes.

"I wonder," he said to himself, so I looked over at him, tilting my head while I waited for him to explain. He looked at me but instead of getting uncomfortable beneath my stare like most would, he simply looked a bit flustered and guilty. "Sorry. Never mind."

"Just say what's on your mind," I suggested in a dull, monotone voice. I wasn't particularly interested in what he had to say, but I pressed him anyways.

"I wonder if you and I mask our emotions for the same reasons." He continued to look at the clouds but his hand had fallen to his side. I knew what he meant but I didn't want to put any ideas in his head.

"Doubt it," I muttered, looking forward. He just smiled knowingly and for a moment I could have sworn he could see right through me. Right through my carefully woven web of lies I used as a shield, through the emotionless and blue eyes that gazed back at him, and into my head. But did he see what I was hiding?

Sadly, no. Deep down I wanted someone to tell me everything would be okay, that one day I'll find a reason to live again. That they'll be my reason to live. But when Ryugamine Mikado looked away from me, I knew it wasn't him who could offer that to somebody like me.

We had reached the intersection where the four of us parted ways, Mikado, Anri, and Masaomi through the busy main roads, me through an alley that was usually empty and desolate. It was still light out so I knew no one would be hiding behind a dumpster waiting to jump me. I waved goodbye and headed towards the dark and narrow 'short cut.' In reality, this way took longer to get back to my apartment than the main roads, but that's why I took it. I liked time alone to walk around Ikebukuro, not having to worry about keeping up a conversation about things as petty and insignificant as the weather or, God help me, high school drama.

I could still hear the quiet and soft tapping of their shoes until they faded into the sounds of the city, leaving me alone. I didn't mind being isolated. I preferred it. While alone, I'm wasn't expected to join in on a conversation and I felt less trapped and claustrophobic. It seemed as though when I'm around others, I risk having my thoughts exposed and people would see the hideous creature that lurked within me. I'd rather this monster haunt me in the physical world. How can you run from something that's woven it's way into the fabric of your existence?

I heard the distinct, screeching sound of a blade running over metal. _'A threat?'_ I thought, looking up at the fire escape. The sun shone exactly above me, and my blue eyes struggled to make out the person staring at me with a cruel, condescending grin.

He had a black shirt and dark jeans that hugged his legs, and I could tell he stood at at least 180 centimeters. Pale skin, black hair, and cold brown eyes that glinted with... malicious intent? To be honest, he was attractive. I ground my teeth in annoyance, but my icy glare didn't affect him.

But what was this feeling in my chest? For as long as I could remember, I had never felt or displayed any real emotions, not even outwardly. Always had I maintained that apathetic expression, even in situations that would make normal people laugh, cry, or cringe. There had been no passion or pain. I'd never felt anything that wasn't physical before. Until that very moment, that is. If it wasn't for the fact that my face was so used to staying in that same position, my eyes would have widened and my mouth would have hung wide open.

This is what they call hatred. And it fueled me like nothing ever had before.

I hated him. One look at his face, into his cruel eyes, and I instantly began to despise him. I could already tell he was an arrogant bastard and liked to toy with people. He fit the exact description of Orihara Izaya. No one else would wear a stupid parka in the dead of summer. He just kept up with that disgusting grin like he felt he was so much more superior than me. Two can play at that game. But who would win in the end?

"Shimizu Mizuki," he sang, his voice as sooth as silk. It was sickening, and I forced myself to suppress a growl. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I know enough about you to understand this is by no means a coincidence, Orihara," I hissed, moving into a defensive stance. I wanted him to jump down from that fire escape so I could punch him square in the jaw.

"I'm flattered, Mizu-chan. You know who I am." Gross he had a nickname for me.

"Fuck yourself." Suddenly, he leaped from the fire escape that was thirty feet above the ground, landing on the pavement like it was nothing.

"What's with the hostility? I'm here to protect you," he replied, slowly approaching me. He held a flickblade in his right hand and by the position his arm was in and the way he held it so casually made me believe he was just using it to frighten me. He seemed to know what I was thinking because he chuckled, moving even closer like a predator. "They say one of the worst ways to die is by being burned alive." Boring. He came closer and got me to back up against the brick wall, his hand right next to my head to support himself while he leaned over me. "So, knowing this, are you ready for hell yet?"

"Too bad Hell isn't real," I muttered, turning my head away from him in disgust. He shook his head, making that annoying tsk tsk noise, his eyes narrowing.

"If only you were right. I was like you once; a staunch atheist. But then an angel fell, and my eyes opened." I really couldn't take him seriously while he was constantly smiling.

As if to prove his point, I heard a feral growl near us. I looked around but could see nothing but the shadows of the alley, and then the thing appeared.

It was born from the darkness of a corner, it's crimson eyes staring straight at me. Izaya looked over at it and laughed a little, the tips of his fingers twitching ever so slightly in anticipation. It became more visible as it stepped out of the shadows, and it was a hideous creature. It had yellow, razor sharp teeth that dripped some black substance, bared in a distorted snarl. It was a canine like beast with black, matted fur that clung to the open wounds on it's body. It was roughly the size of a large bear, but the most interesting of its traits was its tail, which seemed leathery and thin with a red, pointed tip that glowed sinisterly.

"Wonderful. Great. Fucking fantastic," I grumbled sarcastically, raising my arms and dropping them again. Izaya turned his attention back at me, ignoring the demon like creature that was slowly stalking towards us.

"You're not even scared?" He laughed, taking his hand off the wall. He had the expression of a possessed little child who just got a new little toy that he planned on dismembering and melting later when his parents weren't looking. The only two things that crossed my mind were _'I hate this man,'_ and _'What the hell is that thing?'_

It suddenly charged, forcing Izaya to react. It's massive feet left black smoke in its wake with each bound, and when it approached us it swiped one of it's paws at Izaya's chest. He merely dodged the thing as though the world moved in slow motion for him. He then expertly drew his blade across the thing's throat. The cut wasn't deep enough to kill it, but before it could harm Izaya, he sent a kick towards it's head, stunning it. I knew the thing was fast, so I thought it'd attack again before Izaya could strike. I was wrong.

With inhuman speed, Izaya appeared next to the beast, slashing his switchblade through it's fur and flesh. But it didn't end quickly. I watched as the dark haired man tortured that monster. I noticed how it used its tail like a scorpion, trying to stab wherever it saw skin, but Izaya simply kept avoiding it until he cut off the red tip. It howled in agony and could do nothing to stop the knife from slicing off its extremities. That was no normal switchblade, and that was no normal man. Unphased, I continued staring as Izaya continued slashing and stabbing the thing, over and over again. His expression was serious and determined, yet he killed with such blatant disregard for the creature. From the distance between us, I noticed the angry fire in his brown eyes. The thing was long dead by the time he was finished, looking over at me. He had already calmed down and had that disgusting smile plastered on his lips once more.

"I hear you love humans and smile when you're destroying them. But when you killed that thing, your eyes reflected pure resentment. You're not human either, Izaya. So do you hate yourself?"

"What about you, Mizu-chan? You're an empty shell just waiting to be destroyed." He looked at the mangled body on the pavement which was rapidly disintegrating into ash and smoke. He wiped the blunt side of his blade on his jeans which was covered in what appeared to be black blood, and then it disappeared from my sight. I didn't even notice him close it and put it back into his pocket. He started walking towards me and I didn't move when he stopped right in front of me. Seeing a spot of black blood on his cheek, I curiously reached up and wiped it away with my thumb. He chuckled then took my hand in his, keeping it pressed against his face. He was simply toying with me. I barely knew him and I already had him all figured out. At least that's what I thought. He was waiting for my response and when he realized he wouldn't get one he let go, dropping his arm so that it dangled by his side.

"You're not easy to please. But I love that about you." He spun on his heel, outstretching his arms, his chin pointed towards the sky. I had to step back so that I wouldn't get hit. "Finally, a challenge!" In a single motion he had suddenly stopped spinning then jumped right in front of me, his hands behind his back. Startled, I stepped away, and my back met the brick wall behind me. He bent over slightly so that he was eye level with me. "But one day, Mizu-chan, you'll be so infatuated with me that you'll be driven to the point of obsession."

"So is that why you're stalking me? Because you've fallen in love and now you're obsessed?"

"Oh, no, Mizu-chan! I'm interested in you so much because of what's inside you."

_'He knows? How?!'_ The only reasonable explanation I had was that he was the one behind the hallucinations and voices in my head. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, quickly turning so he had his back to the wall instead, slamming him against it with as much force as I could summon.

"Take it out of me! Now!" I screamed, but all he did was laugh pleasantly.

"Anger. You aren't emotionless like you say you are. Or do you only feel emotions around me?"

I was tired of his games. I pulled my hand back, made a fist, and sent it straight towards his throat. Unsurprisingly, he caught it and winked at me before letting go.

"I want answers," I demanded, leaning away from him. He slipped past me, saluting me with two fingers before ascending the iron ladder that led to the fire escape and onto the roof. He was incredibly fast and agile, and was up on the rooftops in a matter of seconds. I clenched my hands into fists, my long nails digging bloody crescent moons into my palms.

"You'll soon know everything, and you'll be seeing me in the very near future."

"Izaya!" I shouted, but it was already too late. He had disappeared from my sight altogether.


	2. Pest

**[AN]** Chapter update! P.S. Can someone show me a link to Durarara! Light Novels that are translated in English? c;

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Durarara! or any of it's characters.

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**Chapter 2: Pest**

6:37 PM; I kept replaying the encounter over and over again in my head, trying to find any flaws in my memories that would suggest it was all a dream. But no. It had happened. That disgusting man, Orihara Izaya, would definitely haunt me when I go to sleep. Truth be told, he scared me more than that demonic beast ever did. I could tell when it attacked that it relied solely on instinct. Izaya, however, was more dangerous because he was cunning and manipulative. He was the devil in disguise. His entire existence sickened me but I couldn't deny the almost gravitational-like pull he had on me. That's what made me so terrified.

What was that creature anyways? I could only think of a few possible explanations. Most likely it was some kind of genetically engineered or mutant wolf. Did they even have those? There was also the possibility of it being a demon. It kind of reminded me of a werewolf, or something that leaped out of an anime or manga. I shook my head at the idea. I had given up on religion long ago.

It was just three years ago when my life changed forever. I was fifteen when a man dressed all in black came into my home and killed my foster father. He was a rich scientist and a widowed man who adopted me out of the 'kindness of his heart.' He had no children of his own because his wife had died from a foreign disease in South America, and she wasn't fertile enough to bare any kids. He lost contact with most of his relatives, so as his only immediate family I got the right to his inheritance.

He first started hitting me when I was seven. He came home drunk after he had spent most of his savings on a new genetic experiment which ended in a disappointment. He was broke, depressed, and more than anything completely full of anger. The details at this point don't matter. I didn't hate that man, nor did I love him. Despite the constant beatings and psychological abuse, I stayed because I didn't care enough to leave. So I waited it out until an unexpected surprise came from a man with a knife. It was purely coincidental, the police said, and they decided to not feature it on the news because of the severity of the murder. It didn't matter. After his death, I was truly grateful to the unidentified man who ripped him apart. I remembered his face but I didn't tell the detectives anything because I didn't care enough to do so. I was in the same room when my stepfather was torn to pieces, yet his killer didn't lay a single finger on me.

Nothing really mattered to me for as long as I could remember. Maybe there was something wrong with my amygdala, a mutation in my chromosomes that resulted in a pitiful excuse for a human being. My theory was that I was a sociopath. It was quite probable. When my step father died, I just sort of let go of whatever sanity I had left and allowed the insanity to take its natural course. It clearly wasn't sadness over his death that made me snap. It was that I could now lose myself to the darkness that had been creeping up on me for so long. Finally I could go insane and be at peace knowing my step father wouldn't be there to stop my occasional fit or send me to some crazy house.

I'm not sure if it was the beating or simply the human contact that delayed the inevitable, but I knew that this force couldn't be stopped. Every so often I'd be able to repress it, and I'd be granted with several weeks of nothingness, but no matter how hard I tried, it would return with even more ferocious power than before. I never got stronger, but it did, and it eventually devoured me entirely.

I moved to Ikebukuro soon after my step father's death and began my first year of high school here, and my cold demeanor made me unapproachable by everyone. Everyone except Mikado, Anri, and Masaomi. They were persistent. Mikado's a new student, and I'd known Masaomi for a while. He introduced Mikado and I and for some reason, Mikado doesn't mind my introversion. We always have one sided conversations, usually talking about nothing, but occasionally he'd ask me about more personal things, like who my parents were or why I lived alone. So far, Mikado was the only one who I was willing to reveal things to. I don't think he completely understood everything, but he knew why I seemed so apathetic. It's all I could ever ask for without being cruel.

I approached my apartment complex. On the other side of the street was a liquor store. The owner was a thirty something year old woman who also owned a body alteration shop that didn't mind selling liquor to minors as long as they kept their mouth shut. I was in need of a bit of alcohol for it's relaxing qualities so before I went home I stopped by the place.

I pushed open the door, which was decorated with those fluorescent signs, and was greeted by the ding of the bell that sounded whenever someone walked in. The woman greeted me with a simple nod of the head. I was a periodic customer, so she already knew the drill; I don't care what brand she gives me, I just want alcohol. She turned around to the shelf behind her, grabbed a bottle of sake, and turned back around, placing it on the counter.

"Same as usual?" she asked, then rang it up when I answered her with silence. I looked at the price that came up and paid accordingly. She mumbled a goodbye and smiled, seeming satisfied when I faintly smiled back.

My hands reached into my pocket when I got to the door of my apartment, but for some reason I couldn't find them. I checked my school bag and still nothing. Annoyed, I jiggled the door knob a bit, narrowing my eyes. I was never one to forget something as important as my keys. Someone must have stolen them. There was only one possible suspect, and I turned to face him, closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at his face until I calmed down. I heard him chuckled and my toes curled a bit, tensing. The sound of his voice seemed to make me relax a little, and I finally opened my eyes, meeting his.

"Such beautiful, icy eyes," he laughed, leaning his shoulder against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Give me my keys."

"You'll have to fight for them," he taunted, dangling them in front of me. I reached for them and he straightened his back, raising his arm above his head.

"Izaya," I groaned.

"Beg for them!" I ignored him, turning back to face the door again and sighed while I push my index finger nail into the keyhole. I twisted it a few times, hoping it'd unlock the door, and let out a breath of relief when I heard a soft click. Thankfully, my nail didn't break. Last time I picked a lock, my nail split all the way down.

"Where'd you learn that?" he asked while I opened the door and stepped inside.

"Burglary school." He tried to follow me in, but I stopped him with the palm of my hand inches in front of his face.

"You can only come in if you answer my questions."

"That depends on the questions."

"Then I won't let you in." I started to shut the door in his face, but he stopped it with his hand.

"You won't get any answers if you keep this up."

I sighed, dramatically waving my arm. "You may enter."

"Cute," he grinned, stepping past me. I aimed a kick at his shin but he just dodged it. He looked around curiously then made himself at home by throwing himself on the couch. He draped his arm over the back of it, patting the spot beside him with his free hand. I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter and wearily went over to him, sitting on the opposite side of the couch. This only made him laugh, and I could tell he was just doing it to test my reactions because of the way he'd look at me, waiting for a response.

"Give me my keys," I repeated dryly.

"Fine. Don't bite my throat out." He handed me my keys, having retrieved them from his back pocket. I snatched them quickly out of his hands and checked to make sure there weren't any missing. "Well," he began, resting his chin on his hand. "What would you like to know?"

'Everything,' I thought, but instead asked, "Who are you?" I already knew his name and what he was like, but that wasn't enough.

"I'm Orihara Izaya, an informant. I love humans and observing their behavior." He outstretched his arms, palms up, and raised or lowered them every few syllables. "Will they risk everything for the one they love, or will they carry out the unspeakable deed and-"

I cut him off. "You're insane."

"I guess you can put it that way." He dropped his arms. "Next question."

"What was that? In the alley earlier."

"A hellhound. And to answer your next question, yes, it is the same thing that attacked Shizu-chan. Sadly, however, it didn't kill him."

"Hellhound? Why was it here?" Skeptical, I narrowed my eyes at him. I had long lost belief in religion, so the idea of a demon roaming the alleys of Ikebukuro was absurd.

"Why, only for you, Mizu-chan," he sang.

"Why me?" I asked, my heart leaping in my chest. I was being pursued by demons like I was their prey? Perhaps he was lying, and I was trusting his word too easily, but something about the way he looked at me and the feeling in my gut made me believe him.

"You'll know sooner or later."

"Damn it, Izaya!" I yelled, grabbing his wrist. "I want to know. I need to know," I paused then added, "So that I can protect myself." It was a pitiful attempt to convince him to tell me, and it didn't work.

"I'm going to protect you," he smiled devilishly, leaning closer. He rested on hand next to my leg, the other reaching for my neck, where he played with a few strands of my raven black hair.

"Why?" I asked again, my voice not shaky out of fright but because of how close we were. His fingers brushed the artery in my neck, and he felt my heartbeat which was going a mile a minute. I blushed. Dear God, I blushed.

"You have something I want." His brown eyes never left mine and I felt like prey, paralyzed by a cobra's stare.

_**"His dying breath whispers on your skin,"**_ the voice said. He tilted his head as though he too could hear it, and he slowly pulled away. He kept up with that annoying smile though. I pretended like none of this happened and continued interrogating him.

"What is it you want?"

He smirked, reaching over to ruffle my layered hair. The short layers in it made it a bit messy. but not frizzy. My hair was naturally soft and straight and reached the middle of my back. "If I told you, you'd run away." His voice was low and husky, like he was being flirtatious.  
"If I run away I won't learn anything."

"Mizu-chan~. Always so curious. I only started talking to you again and you're already developing emotions once more."

"What do you mean? I've never met you before in my entire life." I couldn't help the confusion that was heavily laced in my voice.

"Patience, Mizu-chan. Your worst quality has always been your lack of it. That and your temper." His chucking made me sick.

"Get out." I was a bit confused by what he was saying, but heeded his advice and didn't ask any more questions. Apparently, I'd know soon know everything.  
"I can't leave you alone."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Think of it as a bodyguard."

"Izaya."

"What?"

"Leave."

"Make me."

"I will."

"I'd like to see you try."

"I can kick your ass."

"Come at me, bro." I did as he wished, my hands reaching for his shirt. I managed to wrap a few fingers around the collar, but he pulled away, taking both of my wrists in his hands. He then threw me on the floor and grinned, crossed his legs, then played with his bottom lip with his pinky. The floor was oak, and I knew my knees would be bruised in the morning.

Nonetheless, I stood up, then walked in front of where he sat, aiming the back of my hand at his cheek. He caught it just before it hit him, a playful smile dancing across his features.  
"I should teach you self defense," he said, still holding my hand. I quickly yanked it away.

"Do I have to call the police?"

"I know you won't. You steal, vandalize private property, and you deal drugs. Wouldn't want to fall under their radar now would we?" Damn. He was right. It freaked the hell out of me that he knew so much, and he used that knowledge against me.

"You're not coming with me to school."

"Mizu-chan, I'm not stupid."

"No, just insane."

"But it's so much fun! Everything's one big game, and I'm the one moving the pieces."

"Grow up."

"I'm older than you."

"Then start acting like it."

"This isn't a child's game. It's far too bloody and dramatic."

"Hm." I was tired of talking. All he was doing was bothering the fuck out of me, and I was sick of it.

8:29 PM. Tomorrow was my day out of school, but I wanted to go to bed early to escape this horrible man. Well, he was a stalker after all.'Maybe I should stay up,' I thought. 'Who knows what kind of things he'd do to me while I was asleep.' I wouldn't be surprised if his room had a shrine dedicated to me. Gross.

"Go take a shower. You reek of blood," I muttered.

"Where will I sleep?"

"The floor."

"Funny. I think I'll take the guest room." How did he know I had a guest room?

"Burn everything you touch. You might have some disease."

"Of the sexually transmitted kind."

"I knew it."

"The gifts that keep on giving."

"So, you have more than just one?"

"No, I'm just one big STD."

"And a pain in my ass."

"Hemorrhoids? You should go see a doctor for that."

Izaya, 1,000. Mizuki, 0. Life has no meaning. It's weird how he can bash himself yet somehow emerge victorious.

"I'm gonna need clothes," he demanded, standing up.

"There's men's clothing in the dressers."

"For someone who doesn't like company, you sure are prepared." Wow. How observant.  
"Mm," I breathed.

"Alright, Mizu-chan! Show me the way. But no peeking, although I know you want to so badly. I'm too good for you." Without another word, I led him to the bathroom.

"The guest room is right across the hall if you need clothes," I said, sliding the door open. I pushed him in and shut the door behind him, walking away. I was letting an insane stalker live in my house. Well, it really wasn't my choice to say whether he could stay or not. Still, I couldn't stomach this man sleeping under the same room as me. I doubt he was here to 'protect' me from some unknown force. He had a vendetta. After all, he did say I had something he wanted. I wondered what that could be.

My senses were stronger than the average person so I heard the sound of the shower being turned on from the living room. I could tell when he stepped inside because of the noise of water falling on a hard surface dulled, hitting him instead. I felt like a peeping tom and turned on the TV to drown out the sounds, then went over to my school bag and retrieved the bottle of sake I had found earlier.

"Make me forget," I muttered to its sweet deliciousness and uncorked it. I could have sworn I heard a familiar chuckle but I brushed it off, taking one big gulp without even grabbing a shot glass before sitting on the couch and pulling my legs up.

"Maybe I should hack into the USA's FBI database," I trailed off when the warmth brought to me by the alcohol swam through my body. "Or the Japanese task force."

I was about to get my lazy ass of the couch and grab my 40,000 yen laptop when a woman started talking about a recent string of killings in and around Ikebukuro.

"Victims are usually young women between the ages of 13 and 25 with long, black hair and uncommonly blue eyes." She then started naming the girls who were either seriously injured or killed. None of them had any recollection of the attacks and their wounds seemed to have been inflicted by a massive dog. "Animal control has been informed of the situation."

She then started talking about Heiwajima Shizuo and how he was the only male victim. I took another swig from the bottle then grabbed the remote and shut the TV off. _'So they're after me.'_ I didn't feel any remorse over the girls' deaths at all. I didn't think that beast could easily be stopped by any normal person so it either sensed another threat or realized its victim wasn't me. There is of course the exception of Heiwajima Shizuo. He most likely saw the thing, tried to attack it, and got badly injured. The guy's a tank. Izaya, however, killed the thing so easily. How? The 'hellhound' couldn't even fight back. I had heard that Heiwajima was the strongest man around, stronger than Izaya. So how did he get hurt and Izaya didn't?

The shower turned off. I heard the sliding of the glass and the sound of his feet touching the floor. In a few minutes he returned, his onyx hair wet while he started ruffling it with a towel. He had put on some navy sweatpants and wasn't wearing a shirt. My heart leaped in my chest. He was so unbelievably... Gorgeous. Drops of water still trickled down the subtly toned contours of his chest his skin almost as pale as mine. His body was thin and lithe, and I couldn't stop my eyes from admiring his incredible form. He shook his head like a dog, purposely trying to get me wet. I grimaced, shielding my face with my hand, but really I didn't mind. He smelled nice, not just the soap he used, but his natural scent. I took a deep breath and savored it.

Then I got a hold of myself. My face contorted in disgust and he bursted out laughing, tilting his head at me.

"What? Are you wet?" he practically purred. Eugh.

"Fuck you."

"You wouldn't be able to handle this."

"You're disgusting."

"You seem to like it."

Silence.

I glared at him and he came closer, resting his hands on either side of my head so he could lean over me. A few drops from his hair and chest fell on me. "Just one touch, Mizu-chan, and you'll give in." He brushed the fingers of his right hand down my neck. I bit my tongue and held back a shiver. I wasn't used to this uneasy feeling. It was foreign. And like any sane person -which ironically I'm not- I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

"I've noticed something about you," he smiled triumphantly as though he had me all figured out.

Silence.

"You don't care if other people touch you. Remember when you were walking home and a man lurking in that alley we met nearly molested you? It could have gotten worse if Shizu-chan wasn't in a bad mood and saw the guy then chased after him," he said mockingly, like he reveled in the depression that had stolen all of my emotions, making me care about nothing at all. "But throughout the entire ordeal, you didn't fight back. Your face was as expressionless as ever." He paused for dramatic effect. "That's why I know you want me, Mizu-chan. You're fighting back. You care." His words could have been sweet, if it wasn't him saying them so cruelly. I knew he was going to manipulate my attraction towards him.

"Personally, I don't want you. It's my body that's reacting, not me."

Then, Izaya smiled, his eyes cold and distant, and said, "That's enough for me."


	3. Your Light is Dimming

**[AN]**Another chapter update! I've hand written five chapters already, so I'm just typing them all up now. This is going to be a long fanfic, so don't worry! There won't only be 5 chapters!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Durarara! or any of it's characters. If I did, I'd make Izaya and Shizuo have rough sex in it.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Your Light is Dimming**

"It pains me to leave you, but I have to run a few errands," Izaya said. It was 12:00 PM and I had just woken up. I was busy making rice and crepes. I preferred foreign foods, especially french and Italian. I drizzled melted chocolate over my crepe, which was stuffed with strawberries, and grabbed my bowl of rice, sitting down on a stool next to the marble island in the kitchen. My living space was more Western oriented than anything, with actual furniture, not just pillows for seats and a thin futon for a bed.

"Mm," I mumbled, picking up some rice with my chopsticks, which oddly enough I still used. I left him some rice and the last crepe. He ate it all, which surprised me. I had never seen him eat before and the act mesmerized me. He ate delicately, savoring each bite, and for once he hadn't said a word.

"Bye, Mizu-chan! Try not to miss me too much." He left without another word or gesture. I could tell something was wrong.

_'My turn to stalk you now.'_As soon as he was gone, I threw away the rest of a perfectly good meal. I was in a rush to catch up with him, and it was a shame when I had to get rid of it. I didn't have enough time to waste on eating. I literally ran over to my bedroom, nearly slipping on the hardwood floor, and had to balance myself with my hand on the wall as I passed a corner. I quickly undressed and changed into jean shorts and a black, long sleeved shirt with gray skulls. This time I made sure I had my keys before I left, then stuffed them in my pocket, leaving the apartment a bit more determined than usual.

I had been walking for around three hours and I couldn't find a single trace of Izaya. He had a knack for disappearing and reappearing when he wanted to, which was extremely inconvenient. My feet were killing me and they seemed to get heavier with each step I took.

I remembered how he had climbed on top of the rooftop the day before, and looked up towards the sky as though he'd vault himself over the street and onto another building. A few people bumped into me while I was standing still looking out for him, cursing under their breath and telling me to get out of the way. They seemed to be heading towards a crowd of people in front of some weird Russian sushi shop that I had passed by a few times. I curiously jogged over to see what everyone was making a big fuss about.

I pushed my way through the bystanders rather mercilessly, elbowing and showing a few people as I parted the sea of people like Moses, and I finally got to the inner ring of the crowd.

"Izaya?" My breath caught in my chest. 'Heiwajima Shizuo?!' To those around me I may not have looked surprised, but when I saw the blonde, intimating man in his trademark bartending suit and the devilish Izaya Orihara, I was more than shocked. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut by a knife, maybe even the flick blade Izaya held in his dominant right hand. All was quiet, save a few whispers among the crowd and the whizzing of passing cars that were oblivious to this phenomenon.

Two girls a bit younger than me caught my eye. They seemed almost identical, however one had pigtail braids and glasses while the other had short and choppy hair. Mairu and Kururi... Orihara. They finally noticed me, nudging each other and pointing, the girl with pigtails -Mairu- looking excited. I saw them in school occasionally, and never really spoke to them before. Mairu got bullied a lot but she never dealt with anyone's shit, so people usually attacked Kururi instead, who was introverted and seemed harmless. I never raised my hand to help them. Mairu was loud and obnoxious in my opinion, and Kururi was weird. She always wore a gym uniform to school. I wondered why they were so excited to see me all of a sudden. The past few days had been full of mind explosions. Dear God, I hate being confused.

They pushed through the crowd to get over to me, looking over at the pair of young men every so often until they reached me. Their personalities were like exact polar opposites, but they were both small like me.

"Mizuki! I can't believe it's you. Why haven't I noticed before?" Mairu suddenly hugged me while Kururi watched Izaya and Heiwajima-san with curious eyes.

"Huh?" Was all I said. I didn't push her away, nor did I hug her back, but she eventually let go.

"Oh! Izaya told us not to tell you. At least not yet," she said, taking a step back.

Silence. Are you kidding me?

"Don't worry," she tried to reassure me, "You'll know soon enough."

More silence. You're kidding me.

She pouted, tilting her head. "Are you angry?"

"Yes." I muttered, after careful consideration.

"I don't say this often, but please don't be mad at Izaya! He's only looking out for you."

"Yeah, right," I said sarcastically, shaking my head. Kururi still hadn't uttered a single word.

"We can ask him if it's okay to tell you." Kururi looked over and nodded in agreement.

"He's busy right now." I looked away from them, focusing on Izaya and Heiwajima-san.

Heiwajima-san looked pretty angry, and Izaya was calm and collected, taunting him as he flicked his blade through the air. Heiwajima-san was just about to snap.

"Mizuki! You never used to be this cold!" she squealed, pouting a little. She was just like Izaya; Neither of them acted their age.

While Izaya was harassing his blonde adversary, Heiwajima-san looked over at me and the twins, complete rage consuming him. Our eyes met for a moment and he turned his head back to Izaya, bending the cigarette in his hand.

"Iz-ay-ah!" he bellowed, grabbing the nearest weapon. It was a stop sign. I had heard stories of this man throwing vending machines and picking up small cars, but seeing his power in action scared the shit out of me. With one hand, this blonde guy just ripped a stop sign right out of the ground and hurled it straight at Izaya like a lance. People dodged out of the way of it as it came in contact with the asphalt. Izaya, with his amazing speed, against Heiwajima-san's and his brute strength. The voice of reason holding me together broke, and I screamed as loud a I could at the sky.

"Is everyone in this fucking city insane?!" Kururi and Mairu gave me a few weird looks and the people around me stared at me. They probably expected Heiwajima-san to attack me for insulting him. Izaya finally seemed to notice me standing there then bursted into laughter.

"Sorry, Shizu-chan, but my lady needs me." Me, his lady? Hell no. I could feel my face turn red with anger. I wouldn't be surprised if I had steam coming out of my ears.

"Izaya, you son of a bitch, I'm gonna kill you!" Heiwajima-san charged towards Izaya, readying a powerful fist to send towards his face, but he wasn't fast enough. Before I could blink twice, Izaya came up to me, completely ignoring his sisters, and draped me over his shoulder. Everything was so fast paced that I could barely keep up with it all, and the entire world turned into one big blur. I couldn't force even a single word out of my mouth in protest. He suddenly stopped running and I lifted my head to check my surroundings. How did he managed to get me on top of a roof?

"Let me go," I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut. I felt like I was going to puke. He set me down, rather gently, his hand on my shoulder.

"The look on your face was priceless!" he exclaimed, supporting himself with his hands on his knees.

"Take me home," I struggled to say, tilting my head to the side. My eyes weren't even open yet I was still dizzy.

"Do I get a please?" he asked, calming down.

"Fair enough." He carefully picked me up bridal style and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the uncomfortable feeling of the world moving around me.

Five minutes later we arrived at the apartment. This made me wonder how far away from home I originally was. He had gotten us onto my balcony which was on the top floor somehow. I knew by now that it was best not to question how the hell he managed such a feat, so I silently lowered myself onto the floor and slid the door open. I always left it unlocked because it was unlikely that anyone would be able to break in that way. Anyone but Izaya, that is.

"Your sisters are strange," I muttered, sitting down on the couch. I was exhausted, so I kicked my shoes off and leaned back. He sat beside me and tilted his head, waiting for more of an explanation. "Mairu spoke in riddles. And she said that you told them not to tell me a few things." I shrugged.

"What kind of things?" The tips of his fingers twitched, but he kept up with that twisted, playful facade.

"Don't know," I said, sitting up. "But you do."

"Do you really expect me to tell you?" He laughed bitterly.

Silence. So much painful silence. Neither of us said anything for a little while until finally, after what felt like -and what happened to be- hours, he said, "I'm sorry."

I looked at him, surprised, expecting to see an apologetic expression until I saw the condescending smile on his face that he had greeted me with when we first met. "Liar." I got up from the couch and walked away, my only desire being to not have to look at his cruel smile. I went to bed wondering why I felt that way.

The nightmares were vivid.

**A Little Piece of Heaven**

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

"Izaya," I whispered, my hand on his shoulder, He was sitting on one of the stools around the island in the kitchen with his back to me and his head bowed. His right hand held a cellphone, not a switchblade. He was silent and motionless. "I'm sorry."

I never thought the day would come where I ever apologized to Orihara Izaya. But I never knew this would happen.

He turned his head to look at me, looking completely unconcerned with the recent series of events. But I knew him well enough to see past all of that. His smile was forced and uncharacteristically depressed. "I was waiting for them to die." I knew this wasn't true. I saw the way they looked when their big brother's name was mentioned. Any normal person would be astonished and say, "How dare you say that about your sisters?" But I knew exactly what he was doing.

"They loved you."

"I never considered them to be sisters. Just pieces in this game that I manipulated for my own benefit."

"I thought you loved all humans?" I asked, letting my hand drop to my side. He swiveled the stool around to face me, resting his elbow on the island.

"They're not humans," he chuckled, shaking his head at my naivety.

Truthfully, I blamed myself for this. They didn't fit my description at all yet they were attacked and killed by the hellhounds. It really was my fault. I was tired of people dying in place of me. I was considering tying a piece of meat to my neck and running around the streets of Ikebukuro for them to come find me.

"The girls had my scent on them so the big bad wolves gobbled them up!" he sang, spinning himself and the stool around. I stepped back.

"I thought you said they were looking for me." I furrowed my eyebrows, bewildered.

"They're looking for both of us." Couldn't he have told me that earlier?

"From what I've heard on the news, they usually travel in packs. The bite marks were different sizes. But the one that went after us was alone," I noted.

"You're clever, Mizu-chan!" he congratulated me. "But the one I killed was considerably weak. Demons tend to leave behind the runts of the litter, just like humans."

"I'm going to kill them all," I said, looking at my hands. "I want to kill something and get rid of all of this built up anger. Thanks to you," I glared at him, and he put his hands up in surrender.

"Ha! You can't even pin me down. Besides, more demons would just keep popping up. Face it Mizu-chan. You're on the devil and god's wanted list. The more demons the kill, the higher the priority of your death or capture will be. You're trapped with nowhere to turn to but me."

"I can learn how to fight. I'll kill every last demon until there's none left." Izaya looked at me with a small smile, and he seemed to be zoning off in thought. "I promise things will be better soon, Izaya. This is not the end." I put my hand on his and looked him directly in the eyes His were dull... and lifeless.

I was suddenly alone and surrounded by the bodies of the dead. The sky was as red as blood and I could feel an evil presence in the air. It was close. Was it coming from me?

Among the dead, I saw Kururi, Mairu, and... Izaya. However, my foster father wasn't among them. I would have expected to see his familiar face above anyone else. I wondered why I couldn't find him. I even saw Anri, Masaomi, and Mikado, and the hellhounds' victims.

_**"Behind those lids are lifeless eyes. Those eyes will never reflect love for you again, Mizuki."**_ Izaya laid in my arms, motionless. His eyes were closed as if he were in a peaceful, blissful sleep, but there was a trail of blood that trickled from his mouth. He was covered in his own blood and had a hole in his chest where his heart should have been. Was this my desire? Why I couldn't stop myself from wanting to... Devour him at the slightest of touches? Bloodlust?

I had no idea how to get out of this illusion. Maybe I'd never leave. I felt empty as I looked down at his lifeless form, like my own heart had been ripped from my chest. Crazy people don't usually think they're crazy. They don't realize their visions and the voices aren't real. But I did. I felt like I was missing an important piece of this fog covering the truth had begun to lift but before everything was unveiled I was thrusted back into reality.

I must have fallen down, because when I woke up I was on the floor with Izaya kneeling over me, the back of his hand pressed against my forehead.

"Thanks for breaking my fall," I grumbled, turning my head to the side. I felt like it was going to split in half. He looked unconcerned, that dull, lifeless smile on his face. He was trying to hide it, but the pain of his sisters' death was so evident that it gave me an even bigger headache.

"You have a fever, Mizu-chan. Do you want to go to bed?"

I nodded and he scooped me up in his arms, carrying me all the way to my room. He layed me down on the bed and threw a sheet over me. "Stop acting like you care. We've known each other for a week and you don't seem like the kind of person who would worry about anyone, let alone some girl you just met." That was a lot of words. Major headache. Ow. All of a sudden, I felt kind of selfish. He had just heard his little sisters were dead, and here I was, fainting and being, well, a bitch.

"Do you want to go see them one last time?" I asked, slowly sitting up.

"No, I'm going to steal their bodies. Will you be okay while I'm gone?" I raised an eyebrow at this statement and question.

"What if I say no?" I asked skeptically. I knew the answer to my own question.

"I'll leave anyways," He laughed, patting my head.

"I know." He grinned at me then leaned down, his mouth near my ear.

"I'll be back soon, pet. And when I return we can play some more." Ooo. Kinky.

Silence.

"Oh? Do you actually want to be my pet?"

"No. I just don't care." I layed back down, staring up at the ceiling. I started counting the dots that were engraved in the plaster. He chuckled once more, this time his eyes alight with excitement. I wondered what he had in mind. I knew it wasn't going to be anything sexual. He was just going to toy with me like the manipulative bastard he was.

"I'll give you a reason to care, Mizu-chan. Seeing as how you have no reason to live, you will live for me from now on."

Silence. I didn't know what to say, but I felt like I had heard him say something similar to that before. I suddenly felt lonely. Feeling lonely, in my opinion, was worse than feeling nothing. Izaya was so close to giving me back my emotions, my empathy and ability to love. I didn't want that. Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be him? It may only be anger and hatred that I felt towards that man, but it wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't even what I needed.

* * *

**IZAYA POV**

I don't want to leave her alone, but in the end I'm only doing what's best for her. And to do that, I have to do things that would ultimately benefit myself and make me stronger. Mizu-chan was, after all, a weak and pathetic girl at the time. However, when I get back, I've decided to play a little game with her. She used to be so cute when she cried. Of course, I wouldn't let anyone else hurt her but me. She's so isolated at this point that I'm the only person she can turn to for comfort. That is exactly how I planned things to be right from the beginning. All of this was preordained.

I left her apartment excited and a bit more insane. I'm a sociopath, I have to admit, but I'm not as warped as most of the people I knew. Like Namie, for instance. She has some sort of creepy love for her brother. How ironic, seeing as how both of my sisters have some sort of incestuous feelings towards each other, and here I am, noble and heroic, venturing off on my own to save them. Well, it's Mizu-chan who has to bring the two back to life. Her powers are dormant, so of course I don't expect her to resurrect the dead while still in her fully human form. Like I mentioned before, she's pathetic and helpless as a human.

Sneaking into hospital morgues really isn't a problem at all for me. I have to scale the northeast wall of the city hospital in order to get inside without attracting any attention. It's late in the night, far too late for visitors. Normally, I wouldn't care, but I want to get back to Mizu-chan as soon as possible. As I walk down the brightly lit, empty hallway, I think of her. She is the root of my insanity. The thick scent of antiseptic filled my nose, and I grimaced, but only slightly.

"Excuse me, sir, but visiting hours are over," says a young nurse, looking up from her clipboard. My devilish smile must have frightened her, because she drops the clipboard in her hands and backs up against the wall as I approach. I put my hand on her cheek and whisper in her ear.

"Your daughter will die on a hospital bed and no doctor will be able to save her. So, with your reason for living gone, what will you do?" I lean away just enough for her to see my blood red eyes that glinted with malice. "Or rather how will you do it?"

I'm gone in an instant, leaving her alone without a chance for her to respond. I already know how she'd react. She's a familiar face, one I had seen while visiting a patient I had manipulated before, landing her in the hospital. I know the nurse has a daughter with tuberculosis, and I also know the condition she's in. She definitely will not recover.

The door to the morgue was a welcome sight. "You'll soon live to entertain me again, dear sisters.~" I turn the knob and push open the door and step inside, the lights flickering on as I enter. How convenient! I walk over to the wall of metal cabinets, each labeled by last name of the person who lay dead inside. Soon enough, I find the names M. Orihara and K. Orihara. There aren't any locks to keep them from me, so all I have to do is grab the handles to the cabinets and swing them open.

Ugly blue bags envelope their bodies, and I pull out the sliding shelves to grab their bodies and drape one over each shoulder. The girls are light, being only a bit taller than Mizu-chan, and fairly easy to carry. I remove their name tags and put them in my mouth, chewing them and swallowing to dispose of any evidence. Before I had left Mizu-chan's apartment, I erased all information regarding Kururi and Mairu's deaths. They weren't publicized, so this was an easy feat. No one in the hospital will miss two insignificant bodies, and I doubt the nurse is going to tell anyone I'm here.

This is almost too easy. I usually like a bit of a challenge -though, of course, nothing is impossible for me,- but I'm glad I can get back to Mizu-chan without having any problems to delay my departure.

* * *

**A Little Piece of Heaven**

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

I hoped Izaya would get back soon. I felt sicker than I did when he carried me last week across Ikebukuro. On second thought, no. I could fend for myself. Like hell I'd accept help from that asshole. I then remembered how I already did before, then mentally slapped myself in the face. That mental slap surprisingly hurt me.

What I really hoped for was that by some miracle a mob of flesh eating zombies attacked him and ate that pretty boy face of his. Who was I kidding? No one needs a mob of flesh eating zombies when there's a perfectly good mob of hell hounds waiting for you. Maybe I could enslave them or convince them to join my side with the promise of dog treats and all the squeaky toys they wanted. Then, I'll take over the universe with an army of poorly disciplined, large, unattractive mutts and have my own harem like all the famous dictators do.

The sound of the door opening disrupted my fantasies of world domination. Deja vu... I had a feeling that I was sick and laying in bed, waiting for Izaya to return before. That's impossible for two reasons; One, my immune system kicks ass, so I hadn't been so sick that I was bed ridden since I was five. And two, I met Izaya last week.

He came into my room carrying two blue body bags as though my apartment was some god damned morgue. "Where do you want these?" he asked casually, like he was handling some groceries.

"Wherever I won't have to see them," I mumbled, turning on my side. He laughed a little, the sound resonating beautifully, like music. I decided I would write and compose a song about him. I imagined it already; Dark and light, something that eventually leads into a crescendo, something with a quick tempo and a heavy beat. He left to put the bodies somewhere, and I hoped they wouldn't stink up the place. I had never smelled decaying human bodies, but I had smelled decaying animal bodies. It's not pleasant at all.

He soon returned empty handed and tilted his head. "You don't look too good, Mizu-chan."

"Really? I don't feel too good either."

"Maybe you're gonna die.~"

"Thank God."

"Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, amused.

"Yes," I admitted. At this point, I had nothing to hide.

"Have you ever wondered why you hate me? I haven't done anything in particular to you."

"You forced yourself into my home," I hissed, still not bothering to look at him. He was unworthy of my gaze.

"After years of apathy, that's hardly enough of a reason for you to feel any kind of emotions towards me," he countered, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. He was monitoring me very closely.

Silence. I sat up in my bed and finally stared at him, bracing myself for more.

"Don't you think it's about time I give you a reason?"

"You don't phase me, Izaya." If only this were true. If my words had been honest, maybe everything would have been different.

He started moving closer, his cruel eyes never leaving mine. I really wanted to get up and punch him in that disgusting, smirking face. He had a point. Why did I feel this way?

"Keep telling yourself that, Mizu-chan." He said my name sweetly. Dread weighed heavy on my heart.

When he finally stood by the bed, he grabbed my legs and swiftly turned me to face him, taking my ankles in his hands and hooking them around his waist. I was not going to react, no matter how badly I wanted to scream at him, scratch and kick and punch wherever I could. He was a deserter. He made people need him, become attached to him, and then when he knew they had nowhere else to go, he crushed them. He watched them writhe in the agony with that malevolent smile on his face like it was the most amusing thing in the world.

I cherished this man before me. The sudden wave of built up emotions overwhelmed me. Rage, loneliness, sadness, desperation, and somehow a hint of happiness buried within this mess crept their way back into my fragile being. Everything was clear to me, but this revelation didn't last long.

He raised his hand to wipe away my tears, his fingers caressing my cheek with care. How long had it been since I had last cried? 'Oh, yes... I remember when.'

"Izaya?" I struggled to speak through my tears, and became mute. Words were soon meaningless. Izaya was the only word I needed. 'Izaya' brought all of the colors and sounds into this dull existence. "Why are you so cruel?" He brushed aside my hair to kiss my forehead, his lips lingering there, soothing me.

"Because I love you. I still do."

* * *

**IZAYA POV**

She's so exquisitely beautiful when she cries. She never gets all puffy eyes or gross like most other girls. Instead, it looks like her azure eyes are the clearest of all skies, yet are raining, some sort of miracle.

Why don't I enjoy her pain like I once had? We used to go back and forth, bring pain to each other. Maybe there's something about dying by the hands of the girl you love that changes a person's perspective. I always express my love for humans by hurting them.

But Mizu-chan isn't completely human.

She had fainted after I told her I love her, and more than likely won't remember what had happened. I assume it's for the best. She can remain content in her own little world for a while longer, oblivious to the darkness that is to become of her.

I'm tempted to lean in and kiss her, steal the very breath that escapes those perfect lips that I've fantasized about so often, but she's unconscious. What's the point if she won't react to it?

Hours pass as I watch her 'sleep.' This girl is slowly succumbing to the monster that was consuming her from the inside. My biggest fear is losing her to the beast that lurks within, the beast that had claimed her before. Or even worse, losing her to the monster that I am.

_"Your light is dimming, sweet angel_  
_Your time is drawing near_  
_I'll tear off those wings of yours_  
_So that you'll forever have to be here."_


	4. Frozen Tears

**[AN] **It's been a while since my last update. I'm sorry. x.x Please don't forget to follow or review if you can!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Durarara! or any of it's characters. All hail the mighty Celty!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Frozen Tears**

Today was going by particularly slowly. I turned by head to gaze out the window, the gray sky an ominous omen. The thick, puffy clouds were still almost, as if everything was suspended in time, making the day seem to slip by even more sluggishly. I sighed in annoyance, putting my pencil down on the desk. I turned my attention back to the blank piece of paper in front of me. Inspiration seemed to have avoided me that day, and I ended up giving up after a while, sitting there, idling. I missed Izaya, even if he was like an ache in my tooth.

I pushed the chair back and stood up, crumpling up the unmarked paper and tossing it into the waste bin next to my desk. My aim was getting better lately; I had plenty of practice, throwing things at Izaya's big head when he pissed me off. He always seemed to dodge all of my attacks, even the one when he pissed me off while I was making breakfast. I was cooking an omelet and he told me I was looking 'particularly chubby.' I pride myself on my appearance, as vain as this sounds, and his comment was the straw that broke the camel's back. I tried to hit him in the head with a frying pan, point blank range, and he just ducked out of the way and slithered out the door, snickering. I can still hear his sickly sweet laugh echoing in my head...

I adjusted the knobs in the shower until it ran hot through my hands. I preferred cold weather, however I always took nearly scalding hot showers. The steam would usually fill the bathroom so densely that it was difficult to breath. I wasted a lot of water. My showers ranged from three quarters of an hour to an hour. I was far from frugal when it came to the conservation of water.

When I was finished undressing and had stepped inside, sliding the glass shut behind me, my muscles were soothed by the powerful jets. After I was finished my routine, I ended up standing there, content, and soon the water ran cold.

My eyes were closed to prevent the water that cascaded down on me from irritating my eyes, but that did not stop me from noticing that there was something off about the it touched me, it was thick and sticky, and the temperature of it was luke warm; It smelled like rust, metallic, and I grimaced, wondering whether there was something wrong with the pipes. Would I have to call a plumber? I had a bad feeling that reached all the way down to the pit of my stomach, but I ignored it. I ignored the instinct to get out of the shower as quickly as possible, and instead took a step back to get out of the range of the shower head so that I could open my eyes and look up.

I nearly shrieked at what I saw, but my shock and fear kept me frozen.

Blood flowed endlessly down in place of the water, leaving red smears in its wake. The stall was covered in it, and when I looked down it was all over my body, hazing my vision. I had to blink a lot in order to be able to see anything, but I wasn't afraid because of the mere presence of the blood; I was afraid because it made me hungry, and I wanted to taste it. Just a little sample.

Of course, my plan was flawed. I didn't know where this blood had come from. With shaking hands, I reached forward, my arm passing beneath the raining drops of blood, and turned off the shower. As soon as I did this, an odd thing happened. The blood disappeared. There were no traces of it on the walls or my body, and I shut and opened my eyes a few times to be sure that they weren't deceiving me. I could have sworn that there was blood there just a moment before. I felt it, smelled it, even tasted it a bit when it had trickled down my lips. There wasn't even a drop left. It was as if there hadn't been any in the first place. The hunger, however, still lingered.

When I was finished getting dressed, the odd hunger hadn't subsided in the slightest. If anything, it only worsened, leaving a cavernous hole in my stomach. My skin was itchy and I repeatedly scratched at it, and it was cold. It felt like I was coming down with something, but that still didn't explain my appetite for blood.

While in the kitchen, I checked the cabinets and the fridge for something to eat. Everything I looked at seemed unappetizing. I was so worried that when I tried to eat, the food would turn into a human organ or be covered in blood. I was glad Izaya wasn't home to see me like this. He'd no doubt hold it against me and find some sort of way to torture me about it until I told him why I was so twitchy, and then torture me some more.

The usually comforting blanket that covered my bed wasn't helping, either. It was only seven o'clock in the evening, but I thought that maybe I can sleep off this insanity. I'd trade nightmares any day instead of something that felt this real. Izaya wouldn't be home for a while. Maybe this would be the perfect opportunity to experiment with my hunger.

I sat up in bed and crossed my legs with my hands in my lap, glancing down at my right wrist. I knew it was a stupid idea, but I'd already passed the threshold of the idiocy of my actions. I wasn't suicidal or anything. Simply curious. Nor did I expect to drain myself dry with just a small taste. I just couldn't let this hunger overcome me. I couldn't think through it at all.

So I pressed my lips to my wrist and bit down. I should have gotten a sharp object to make a wound somewhere, but the thought simply didn't cross my mind. I was too absorbed in the hunger.

My teeth were dull so it took a lot of pressure to make an incision. It hurt more than I expected, but I didn't care. Blood began to weep from the crescent moon I created, and flowed gently into my open mouth. It tasted exactly how blood always tasted to me; Metallic, leaving an after taste of rust and copper. It wasn't anything special, really.

I knew this was Izaya's doing. He wanted me to devour myself like some sort of sick cannibal. I wasn't going to fall for his tricks any time soon, so I quickly pulled away and spit out the remaining blood in my mouth. I felt victorious. Surely I had won some sort of game with him. I didn't let Izaya fool me.

I quickly got up from my bed and stumbled towards the bathroom in a rush. I had to clean and dress the wound before Izaya came home. Hopefully, he wouldn't realize that I had almost fallen into his trap. I had a suspicion that he would; I could usually never get anything past him. But I had to try, right?

When the wound was disinfected and I had a neat, white bandage wrapped around my wrist, I made sure to put on a sweater so Izaya wouldn't see. It was all I could do at the moment, and when Izaya came home, I made sure to put on my best poker face.

Izaya came into the apartment silently. He had his own set of keys to it, which he had practically forced me to get for him. He said it would be more convenient. He set them down on the island in the kitchen and sat down on the couch, a sly smile on his face. He acted like he owned the place. It annoyed me.

"Did you miss me?" he asked in his usual tone. I sighed, knowing that this conversation would go no where. We always had it right when he came back. It never really changed much.

"No, asshole," I lied. It didn't matter if I denied it. He already knew the truth. The conversation suddenly took a U-turn.

"Well, I had plenty of female company, so I didn't miss you that much, Mizu-chan," he chuckled, although there was a sick edge to it. I ground my teeth in anger.

"Just don't bring any whores in my apartment." I was digging crescent moons into my palms, my nails biting into my flesh.

"Oh, her services came with a room," he said nonchalantly, dismissing the words with a wave of his hand as though it wasn't that big of a deal. I was a bit shocked. Izaya didn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd go out of his way to buy a prostitute. Still, a wave of jealousy swam over me regardless, and I shook with fury, paralyzed from shock.

"Prostitute?" I asked as though curious. I tried to calm myself down a little, tried to see past the red haze that clouded my vision. I didn't have any feelings for him, that I was certain of. But I understood this emotion of jealousy rather well. It confused me, and I leaned back in my seat, trying to push out my emotions from my mind, banishing them. It worked. I was an empty shell for the moment, and whatever he said wouldn't affect me. I sat there, nodding, and every word he uttered went through one ear and out the other. I didn't even notice when he got up and left to go to sleep in his room.

I was suddenly aware of the darkness that surrounded me. He must have turned off the lights on his way out.

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

The next day, Izaya didn't seem to notice the wound on my wrist. I kept it well hidden, of course, but I was still surprised he hadn't said anything by then. Surely he would have noticed something was up? I may be a good liar and actress, but Izaya is, well... Perceptive.

TV didn't offer me much that night. It was past Izaya's 'curfew' and he was still out. I kept sneaking glances at the door, wondering if he'd walk in any moment now. By 3:43 AM, I had given up waiting and set out to look for him. It was dark out, but the city lights would guide me. When I was finished getting dressed and had brushed my teeth, I hurried quickly out the door.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into. All I knew was that I had a suspicion Izaya was doing something that he didn't want me finding out about. My feet carried me silently over the roads and sidewalks, and yet the streets were still busy and bright. People were out even at this time in the morning, mostly teenagers, but there were some older people who were probably working the night shift. It was like they never slept.

I started walking around aimlessly, checking down every dark alley and street corner. I wasn't looking for Izaya at the moment. I was being cautious and a bit paranoid. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I could sense that someone was watching me. Something. Suddenly, this idea didn't seem as bright as it did before. The air around me was abnormally cold, and I could have sworn I heard the baying of a horse in the distance. It must have been my imagination, because I was certain that there weren't any horses in Ikebukuro.

"Mizuki!" Bellowed a deep voice, thick with a heavy accent. I turned my head to see where it came from, and I could make out the form of Simon Brezhnev who worked at the Russia Sushi shop. I never really liked his cooking, but nonetheless if he was calling my name, he might have had something important to tell me. I turned around and walked in his direction, stopping a few feet in front of him. He was a friendly character and rather large, with dark skin and kind eyes. I heard he was the only one in Ikebukuro whose strength was on par with Heiwajima Shizuo's.

"Simon," I muttered, staring at him with little emotion on my face. He didn't seem to mind, but instead leaned closer and bent his knees to whisper in my ear. I was rather small, and there was quite a large difference between our heights.

"You look for Orihara-san, no?" He didn't let me answer before saying, "Find Shizuo and ask for the Black Rider. Black Rider will know where he is." I was a bit surprised that he knew I was searching for Izaya. Everyone around me seemed to know everything in this God forsaken city. It bothered me, but he continued speaking. "Don't mention Izaya to Shizuo." He then stood up straight and turned away without another word.

I didn't know where I'd even find Heiwajima-san. I doubted he'd be out this late, but I continued heading in the direction I was going in, exhaling loudly. The information he gave me didn't seem very helpful, but it was odd that he provided me with it in the first place.

The sidewalks on which I traveled were busy that night, as were the streets that hummed with the sounds of engines and people honking their horns. I payed no attention to any of it because I saw a blonde head stick out from the crowd like the sun. Heiwajima-san was a tall man, towering over six feet, so finding him was a simple task. It didn't even take that long to do so. Right when I left Simon to go walk around aimlessly some more, BAM, there the guy was. All tall and brooding. People gave him a wide birth, like they were afraid he was a time bomb that would blow any moment. I'd seen him in action, so I didn't blame them.

I started pushing through the crowd faster than those around we were moving to get to him. He wasn't that far ahead of me, and I was wondering why I didn't see him before. Maybe it was because I was too busy looking for some apparition that probably wasn't even there.

I was a few paces behind him now, and I called out his name, my voice carrying above the buzz of the chatter around me. "Heiwajima-san!"

The man grumbled a few unintelligible words, obviously annoyed. Maybe I had caught him at the wrong time. He stopped dead in his tracks, and people still left a large circle around him, even if he was standing still. I was pushed into his bubble of space that they provided him, and stumbled to his side. His hands found my arms, steadying me, his touch surprisingly gentle but strong. He quickly let go, and I took a step back automatically, looking up at him. This was the first time I'd ever really seen Heiwajima-san up close, but I felt like I knew him very well. And apparently, so did he. He looked at me, an expression of shock and recognition on his face, but as quickly as it came, he composed himself.

Honestly, he was attractive. His blonde hair was medium length, and was neat but messy at the same time, kind of like mine. It was a nice, golden blonde color, the natural shade* that some girls try to get by dying their hair but never achieve. It was radiant, like the faint glow of a midday sun. He had dark eyes and a strong nose, and he wore a white, long sleeved, button down shirt and a black vest over it with black slacks. In his mouth was a lit cigarette.

"Yo," he grumbled, ruffling his hair with his hand a bit. I did that a lot when I was embarrassed or flustered. He seemed to be both at the moment, and a corner of my lips twitched, as if I was going to smile. I quickly reigned it in, and he didn't seem to notice. I wondered why he had the ability to almost make me smile.

"Uh, I'm looking for the Black Rider," I muttered, still introverted and not wishing to speak much. Just because he almost made me smile didn't mean he changed my personality, the essence of who I am. The only one with that power was Izaya, and I didn't need another person getting too close to me.

"Oh," he said, taking one last drag from his cigarette then threw it on the ground, stepping on it with his shoe. It looked to me like he had only taken a few drags from it. "C'mere. I'll call her for you." Weird. I always thought the Black Rider was a guy. Heiwajima-san pulled out a cellphone and tapped the screen a single time -he must have had her on speed dial- and put the phone to his ear. We only had to wait a few seconds until I heard him say, "Hey, there's someone who wants to see you." He then looked at me out of the corner of his eye then looked away quickly when he noticed I was watching him, too. "Yeah," He muttered into the phone, nodding. "Near Simon's place. Alright. See you there." He tapped the screen once more and put the phone back into his pocket.

"When will he- I mean she be here?" I asked impatiently. I had to find Izaya soon. It was probably around 4:00 AM.

"She'll be quick," he said, then motioned me with his hand to follow him. "Come on." He then shoved his hands into his pockets and sauntered forward, and I followed him like there was an invisible string attaching me to him.

It bothered me, how I felt like I was missing something, but nonetheless, I felt secure. Safe. Even if this man who I had only just met was not by my side, I knew I'd be protected. The strange presence that I felt was following me disappeared, leaving nothing behind it. I wondered if Heiwajima-san noticed it, too, because the moment it left he seemed to calm down a little.

He led me to an alley (odd as that sounds) and we already had someone waiting for us there. This someone was leaning against the brick wall and blended almost completely into the darkness it dwelled in. I had a feeling that if it desired, it could hide itself from us if it wanted to. The person, as I soon distinguished it was, was wearing a black, toght, leather full body suit and a yellow helmet. The helmet had ears and reminded me of a kitty. Maybe it was just because of the thick darkness around us, but I could not see into the visor. It was far too tinted for me to do so. She had the same strange aura as the thing that was following me earlier, but hers was benevolent. I automatically knew she was a good person. Beside her was a black motorcycle that breathed the same darkness she did, and it was sleek and beautiful.

"Celty, this is Mizuki," Heiwajima-san told her as we approached. He then put his hand to his face, squeezing his eyes shut, and grimaced.

I stared at him incredulously, anger fueling my suddenly racing heart. "How do you know me?" I asked, my voice thick with fury.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," he said, dropping his hand and glaring at me. My eyes widened, and my anger waned. He was mad at me? Shocked, I looked over at the other odd character in our party, who was typing away on a cellphone. She then held it up for us to see what it said, and I realized quickly that this was how she spoke. She was mute, probably.

**[I'm Celty.]**

"You're not human," I interrogated, to which she replied on her cellphone;

**[Neither are you.]**

So far, she was giving me much more information about myself than anyone. I nodded, but not in agreement. I nodded in understanding. I would have asked more questions, but I had to find Izaya. I looked at her then Heiwajima-san, and asked softly, trying to sound as though I were embarrassed, "May I borrow your phone to tell you?" She nodded and took a few steps forward, handing it to me. I looked over at Heiwajima-san, who was staring off towards the busy street, typed to her;

**[I need to find Orihara Izaya.]**

I then handed her back the cellphone and she quickly glanced at it then nodded. She hopped onto the back of her bike, kicked up the stand, and put it in neutral, revving the engine a little. The sound was music to my ears.

I looked over at Heiwajima-san, and he stared back, nodding in the direction of Celty and her bike. "She'll keep you safe. See ya." He only said these few words before turning away from me and walking down the alley. I felt a bit responsible for his strange behavior (after all, isn't he supposed to be a rude asshole?) so I took a few steps forward and called out to him.

"Heiwajima-san," I said, my voice barely raising an octave. He stopped then turned his head towards me, his glare still a prominent feature. It stung a little.

"It's Shizuo."

Everything I was suddenly disappeared. My name, my past, my present, thoughts of my future. Even Izaya. There wasn't even the alley we stood in, nor the strange Black Rider who bared witness to this scene. I did not notice any of these things. All I knew was Shizuo. It was as if everything but us ceased to exist, and all there was was him. He was my beacon, my Guardian, my protector. We were connected on a completely different level compared to everyone around us.

"Shizuo," I echoed, and closed my eyes. This did not matter. I could somehow still see him standing right in front of me, suspended in darkness. I loved the way his name danced on my tongue, like something strong and sweet. "Shizuo..." I whispered, and he looked at me like he was waiting for something.

My voice mirrored the angelic one that haunted my mind and soul, but as I spoke, instead of it sounding cruel, the voice was what I expected an angel to sound like. The words I spoke hung in the darkness with us, lingering there.

And then we harmonized.

"Will you forever be my guardian angel?" I asked, nearly singing those familiar words. It was like I had once heard them play on the radio, a song from the past which I didn't remember ever hearing, but somehow I knew all the words.

"Your frozen tears can finally fall." He said, his expression softening. His mouth was a hard line, and if I didn't know any better I would have said he was angry.

After a few moments of complete silence, I turned my back on him, and reality stretched out before me as he left my vision, my apathetic demeanor taking over once more. I knew the next line, but instead I spoke harshly, "Not yet."

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

**[What was going on between you and Shizuo?]**

The screen read. We had arrived at our destination; Izaya's apartment. Funny how it had never occurred to me whether or not he had a home.

"It was a song I had written and composed," I said thoughtfully. I didn't know how Shizuo knew it, or why I even sang it to him in the first place. Now that I thought about it, I had never remembered actually writing it. I found it hidden among a bunch of other pieces of work that I also apparently had done in my handwriting while I was unpacking a few years ago. I never used to write before I moved to Ikebukuro, nor did I know how to compose music, yet all of a sudden I had a talent for both. And I could play any instrument I touched, even ones I had never heard of before. It was just weird.

**[It was beautiful]**

I had to admit that Shizuo's voice matched perfectley with mine. Bass and alto. But what was more incredible in my opinion was the motorcycle Celty drove me on. She didn't have an extra helmet for me, so instead she made one. A blanket of darkness wrapped around my head and solidified to form a helmet. I could take it off if I wanted to, thankfully, because it freaked me out at first.

"That was only a very small part of it. It sounds better with piano, and I composed it to have three voice parts." The ride was... Magical? Ethereal? I can't explain it, but one thing I can say is that we were going at an incredible speed. Despite this, I could make out every detail of the scenery we passed. I could feel the darkness around us protect Celty and I. In that short ride, time seemed to stop and it was as though we were passing the world by in our own dimension.

**[Can I hear it one day?]** She shoved the screen in my face anxiously.

"Sure I own a piano." We stopped in front of the door to Izaya's apartment and she gave me his room number. We exchanged cellphone numbers and she ruffled my hair with her gloved hand. I pouted. Everyone like to touch my hair.

**[Be careful.]**

She typed onto her screen. I nodded and muttered a thank you, opening the double doors to the lobby. I heard the sound of a neighing horse and the screeching of tires behind me.

"Good morning, ma'am. Can I help you with something?" I looked over at the man at the front desk, then turned away to take in my surroundings. I wondered what kind of place Izaya lived in. So okay, Izaya was a bit wealthy I assumed. The ceiling, floor, and walls were so intricate it was shocking. There was one of those waterfalls on the wall behind the desk where the water streams down gently into a pool on the floor. Even the elevators were impressive, and there were velvet sofas for people to relax on.

"Orihara Izaya." I said, walking towards the desk. He looked at me, bewildered, his eyes never leaving mine like he was entranced in my gaze.

"I'm looking for Orihara Izaya." I was getting annoyed after a few moments of the man just gawking at me like an idiot, so I demanded, "Give me an elevator key. I'll go to him myself." Like a machine, his eyes still on mine, he reached under the desk and placed a card in front of me.

_'That was weird,'_ I thought as I swiped the elevator card and waited for it to open. _'Probably some pervert.'_ I stepped inside and pressed the button for the top floor, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall when the doors closed.

_'Izaya...'_ I closed my eyes, _'Why did I even come here?'_

My thoughts were disrupted by the 'ding' of the elevator opening. When I opened my eyes, Izaya was standing in front of me. His expression was serious for once, and when I was about to say something, he pushed me against the wall and covered my mouth with his hand. He moved his lips near my ear, but this time he wasn't doing it to tease me. "Class D demons," He whispered quickly. "You need to get out of here, now."

Adrenaline coursed through my veins at the mere mention of a demon. The elevator doors began to close and I sighed in relief, but suddenly a hand reached forward with blinding speed and the door obediently opened once more to let the hunters in.

Eyes as red as blood glinted. Two pairs of them. They were both males wearing black suits as though they were here for a business deal, but I knew they had plans for something far more sinister. One had an evil, victorious smile while the other was silent who spoke with his eyes that hid behind prescription glasses and pierced me like daggers. _'They remind me of Izaya... And myself,'_ I noted, disregarding the danger they presented. But they were also very different from us.

"Izaya. You lied to us," spoke the grinning one. Izaya turned to face them, pushing me behind his body protectively. I couldn't tell whether he was smiling or not because he wasn't facing me, but by his usual tone of voice I assumed he was.

"All I said was I didn't know where she was. Which, technically, was true."

"Hand her over to us. She's one of the Fallen and belongs in Hell." Again, people were talking about me as if I wasn't there. As if they knew me better than I did. I was pissed off, and four eyes seemed to notice by the way he looked at me when I clenched my fists and ground my teeth together. He more than likely didn't know the source of my anger, but seeing as how everyone knew some secret about me that I didn't even know, I doubted it.

"She's also human. You can't have her until she dies or..." Izaya's voice trailed off, obviously hiding something from me. He spoke of me as if I was a prize to be won.

"I have no intention of dying or going to Hell any time soon." They ignored me as if I hadn't even spoken. That is until the cocky one opened his mouth and bared rows of sharp teeth.

"Then I guess we'll have to kill her!" he hissed, lunging towards Izaya. He quickly reacted to this and grabbed the demon by his throat, throwing him up and through the top of the elevator. He landed back on the metal roof with a loud, heavy thud. As the other demon advanced, brandishing a sword I hadn't noticed before, Izaya counter attacked with just his flick blade. The clash of their weapons stung my ears, and I leaned into the corner, covering them.

I heard movement on the metal roof exactly above where I was standing, and a soft but disturbing chuckle. Something pierced the elevator from above and shot straight towards me, leaving me with no time to react. As Izaya was still fighting the sword wielding demon -which I thought was a katana- he roughly pushed me out of the way, but not before a large slash was made in my right shoulder. I could tell it was deep because it didn't hurt, and the warmth soaked through my clothes. The way he pushed me also made that shoulder bump against the wall with brutal force, and I heard a distinct crunch from within my body. Now that hurt. I cried out in pain and grabbed my now broken arm with my left hand.

When the other demon leaped back down into the elevator, his left hand a dark black with distinct blue veins running up and down his arm that quivered every so often, Izaya had dispatched the megane. My conclusion was that the demon stretched his left arm earlier and shot through the elevator with it in an attempt to impale me. As he stared at his fallen comrade's body, which was rapidly disintegrating into a cloud of black ash and darkness, shock written all over his face, Izaya chuckled, flashed his bloody blade, and said to him, "You're next."

Izaya was cleaning and dressing my wounds in his apartment after he had killed the remaining demon. Killing, he had once told me, was like an art to him. He loved the way blood splatter painted the walls. When a demon is killed, it's body vanishes, along with the blood left behind.

"Where does a demon go when they die?" I asked while he taped more gauze onto my wound. The cut began at my right shoulder blade and went all the way down to my left hip. It was about two centimeters deep and required stitches. Because of where I was cut, I had to take off my now ruined shirt and bra for him to treat it. The thing literally sliced my bra and shirt in half. I had my arm wrapped around my chest, but had to move it earlier, for it had stretched right down the middle of my chest.

"They have no souls to begin with, so they just cease to exist." He shrugged, then handed me one of his black shirts to put on. There was a red blood design near the neckline of it, and I looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I have a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder. How do you expect me to put this on?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot." He gently held my shoulder and right arm. "This might hurt a little bit," he said with a chuckle, the thought of my pain amusing him. He then jerked the hand holding my arm and shoved. I heard a pop then I bit my lip in pain, trying not to make a sound. It was abrupt and I was a little bit sore, but other than that I was fine by my standards. I was extremely tolerant to pain.

I struggled to put on the shirt, ignoring him when he offered to help, grumbling in annoyance at his teasing. Haven't I had enough that day? He then put my arm in a makeshift sling and set his tools back on the coffee table, then looked outside his long walls of glass. I had to admit, it was a fantastic view. At the top floor of one of the tallest apartment buildings in the city, you could see nearly all of Shinjuku. At least, the vastness of the view gave the impression of such. Birds were flying about, traffic clogged the busy streets, people walked along unbeknownst of the demon who looked over the crowd, the sun was shining-

The sun was shining.

"Izaya, I'm tired," I mumbled, looking up at him.

"Well you can't sleep here."

"But you'll protect me. Right?"

Izaya put his hand on my head and ruffled my hair a bit, his typical smile a little more gentler than usual. "Yeah."

His gaze that slowly went down to my wrist, and he took my hand in his, turning it so it was facing palm up. "Mizu-chan, you but yourself like an animal. How old is this?" He laughed as though he was observing a child's behavior, condescending and distant.

"A day," I muttered, trying to pull my hand away. He wouldn't let go. _'His hand is warm...'_

"Your appetite for blood can only be sated if you devour the entire life force of the one you love." So I was a vampire? Cursed to drink the blood of humans and walk in the shadows of the night? It sounded like a lonely existence. "It's because you're crazy, Mizu-chan," he added, and I sighed in relief. I didn't want to be a demon.

"Then what am I?"

"You're not a demon," His other hand brushed my cheek, "I can tell you that." He then let go of my hand and traced a line with his nail on the curve of his neck, letting the blood flow. It started to trickle down to his collarbone and the temptation hit me like a train. He then sat next to me on the sofa, turning his body so he faced me, and rested a hand on the back of my head while the other supported his body on the sofa. "Drink. I'm curious to see what will happen."

I didn't even think. Under normal circumstances I'd push him away, throw a lamp at him, and threaten to toss him out the window for mocking me. But this time I wasn't myself. Something else was taking over, something that wasn't me. It couldn't have been me, who put her hand on his cheek with tender care to tilt his head up and give her space. The thing that wasn't me sighed happily and closed her eyes, then pressed her shadow touched lips to the thin cut on Izaya's neck. It wasn't me, who steadily drank from him, ran her tongue along the trail of blood like a whore of Satan, and greedily sucked the wound. Izaya shivered from the touch of something that wasn't me.

After a few seconds of feeding, his blood mixing with mine overwhelmed me. There wasn't something else taking over my body. No. That was me.

Izaya's blood made me whole. It filled the voids and cracks in me and unified us together. The taste of his blood was much different from mine. His was sweet and strong while mine had left the bitter taste of metal in my mouth.

His emotions. I could feel them as our blood blended together in my body.

I could feel his love for me. It went through me like an electric shock to my heart and powered me like a battery. I jolted a little then clung to him. His love was far from pure. It was mixed with the need to make me suffer, hurt me, isolate me so that he was the only one I could turn to for comfort. I was scared. But what terrified me the most was wondering what I had done to make a monster like him love me.

"Izaya," I groaned against his neck, pulling my lips away. I was disgusted with myself, but that didn't stop me from licking the cut to savor him. I opened my eyes, and was about to look away in shame and anger, but his gaze held mine and it locked me in place. His smile was gentle yet cruel. Cold heat. He brushed his fingers over my cheek, his index finger passing my bottom lips, drawing lines on it.

"Now would be a great time to kiss me," I muttered surrendering.

He chuckled, one of my favorite things to hear, and leaned in to rest his forehead against mine. I had butterflies. My heart was racing because of him. For a moment I thought he was just teasing me, and that all of this was a dream or a lie, and I didn't think he was going to kiss me. It hurt to think that.

He must have sensed when I began to have doubts and, satisfied, he lowered his lips and finally pressed his lips against mine. His fingers ran through my hair until he got to the roots, where he yanked and received a soft cry. When my mouth was open he slipped his tongue inside, exploring my mouth. He then bit my bloodstained lip and kissed me like he would die if he didn't. My heart nearly stopped.

_**"Kiss him, because it'll be the last thing you do. You're pathetic. You'll only be satisfied if you kill him, isn't that right? Hasn't he suffered enough because of you? Kill him! Kill him and end his pain. Rip out his throat and devour his heart so he can become a part of you."**_

"Shut up!" I screamed, shoving Izaya away from me and breaking our kiss. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears with my hands as though I could block the voice out, which echoed maddeningly in my head. Izaya disappeared from my touch and for a moment the world went cold. He quickly returned and I felt him grab my wrist, then a prick near the crease of my arm.

"Sleep well, Mizu-chan," he laughed, kissing my forehead. I felt his grin on my skin until darkness consumed me.


	5. A Hand To Hold Through Darkness

**[AN]** Sorry about the last chapter update. I didn't realize until I posted it that it exceeded 6,000 words. Oops. xD Well, anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter! Also, there are a lot of spoilers, most pertaining to the last two episodes in the anime. I'll label them with a **SPOILER ALERT** in bold letters.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Durarara! If I did, I'd put a hypnotic swirly swirl in the anime so that everyone who watches it is hypnotized and becomes my slave...

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Hand To Hold Through Darkness**

**IZAYA POV**

"How far into her awakening is she?" I ask, brushing my hand over her cheek. I had brought her back to her apartment while she was unconcious and put her in her bed.

The sequence of her visions suggests that she's a little over halfway through the initiation process." Shinra adjusts his glasses as he speaks then hands me a bottle of pills. "Crush this and add it to her drink once every night. Hopefully, based on my data on her, they'll speed up the awakening."

"I thought each vision has to be triggered," I raise an eyebrow, sitting down on the bed next to her. The idea of this all going smoothly, of Mizu-chan awakening without having to experience any more hallucinations, makes me a little upset. I want her to have grow more attatched to me before she uncovers thr truth. And it'll be easier for her to succumb to me if I'm the only one in her life who she can go to for comfort. And fact that she's absolutely adorable when she's struggling to find the will to live.

Shinra takes another blood sample from her and I supress a growl.

"Yes, the pills just make her more sensitive to vision inducing trauma," he says, pouting. I chuckle at his guilty expression. "I'm surprised you didn't guess that. You must be worried about her." The scientists faintly fmiles. "I'm glad your love is getting healthier."

"No." I laugh, piercing him with a sideways stare. "I'm a demon. My love feeds like a parasite because it's a sin." I throw my arms up in the air and shout at the ceiling, a grim smile on my face. "Besides! It's much more fun this way."

He disregards my outburst and shrugs. "Deep down she doesn't mind."

"That's one of the reasons why I love her." I look over at Shinra, watching him gather his things into a black leather bag. "You're not going to sell her blood on the black market, are you?" I laugh, but he can tell I'm serious.

"No, I'm going to compare it to some of the rest of her mother and father's blood that I still have. Although I would bag a million yet on a single vial if I did." He smiles warmly, staring off into space, and places his hands on his chest, right over his heart. "Who needs money when you have love!?"

I watch Shinra as he leaves the room, and listen to the sound of his heart beat until he gets into his car.

"Mizu-chan," I say, leaning over her in an embrace. "You'll be the death of me."

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

"Mmn..." What a weird dream. It was so vivid, but why the hell would I ever dream of kissing Izaya? _'Although I wish it was real...'_ I sat up, pushing the sheets down to my waist, pressing my fingers to my lips. I could feel Izaya's kiss still on them, but only barely, like a shadow or a ghost. The taste of his blood hung in my mouth and i nearly groaned, realizing what had happened.

_'Izaya loves me.'_ I knew it was true, deep down, but I couldn't accept it. His love still lingered in me, making me whole, and I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at the sheets. I still had his shirt on. It smelled nice, and I vaguely hopedthat he wouldn't ask for it back. My arm was surprisingly fully functioning. Weird.

I finally noticed Izaya's sleeping form under the sheets beside me. We were back at my apartment, in my bed. His chest was rising and falling steadily, so I could tell he was asleep. He was facing me, his lips slightly parted and his eyes gently closed. I had never seen him look so peaceful and relaxed before, so I couldn't help but watch him.

I realized something while I compared the sleeping Izaya with the awake Izaya. Something I should have realized before but failed to. Izaya always looked a little sad, lonely, and full of despair. He causes pain to others because he wants attention from them. Suffering and sadism weaved its way into his ver existence until it became him.

I brushed the back of my hand over his cheek, sighing only a little. I pushed aside a few strands of hair from his face, then kissed his forehead. He stirred slightly, making a soft noise, and I smiled at him.

I wasn't sure how much time had past, but I suspected he'd be awake soon. I unraveled myself from the sheets, careful not to wake Izaya up, and tip toed to the bathroom to take a shower. Luckily, this time there wasn't any blood and gore. I took a faster shower than usual just in case.

"Izaya," I said softly in acknowledgement as I entered the living room. He was on the swivel chair and spinning around rapidly, and I was half expecting him to puke his guts up from rotating so quickly. When I entered the room, fully clothes and rubbing a towel over my damp, thick hair, he stopped spinning around, a dumb ass smile on his face, and stared at me. He should have been dizzy, but he didn't seem like he was. Weird kid...

"Ah, Mizu-chan." He looked away, staring out the glass doors to the balcony, and ignored me after that. I exhaled loudly and collapsed onto the couch, ruffling my hair with the towel. We sat there in silence, both of us staring out at the same scenery, seeing the same things, but I doubted he was thinking about what I was thinking. I felt like he was purposley trying to ignore me to piss me off. If he really thought I was going to give in, he was retarded.

We stayed like that for hours, even after night had fallen. As far as I could tell, he hadn't so much as glanced at me, busying himself by rocking back and forth in the chair.

I woke up in the morning to the sun shining down on me from the window. It was a sunny morning, which I was extremely grateful for because it had woken me up. I had school that day and had fallen asleep on the couch, so I hadn't set my alarm. I had also gone asleep with wet hair, so I probably had a cold. My nose was running, and I sneezed a few times.

Izaya wasn't in the apartment, and I had a half an hour until school started, and it took half an hour to get to the Academy. I rushed to get ready, putting on my uniform and fixing my hair. Because I was running so late, I didn't bother getting anything to eat. I stumbled out the door with my bag while trying to put on my shoe at the same time.

I ended up running the entire way, and made it to first period with three seconds to spare. Yabusaki Sensei scolded me, despite me being on time. I didn't even bother to retaliate, which probably surprised him. I was too busy thinking about Izaya.

Normally Izaya was an asshole. However, he took any opportunity he could find to impress me or help me, even if he was the one who caused the problem just so that I would be like, 'Oh my gosh Izaya, you're so awesome. I'll go jump off a cliff if you tell me to.' Confusing, I know. But that's how his brain works. I just wasn't like all the other stupid teenage girls he manipulated. I'm not traumatized and I'm not dependent on others. At least, I wasn't traumatized until I met him. So I had no intentions on jumping off a cliff if he asked me to.

So, with that logic, Izaya normally would have carried me to my bed. Or woken me up to tell me I had to go to school. Perhaps he knew I'd get a cold if I didn't dry my hair before I went to bed, so he didn't wake me up. Now, he was probably going to make me soup or something then proceed to tell me to run into the middle of the street if I 'really appreciated him.'

Class is a breeze for me when I'm not paying attention. Most people would say I'm like a robot, working on one thing while my mind is on something else completely. I'm really just good at multi tasking. So I finished all of my work and got it all right. Yabusaki Sensei couldn't complain.

"Shimizu-sempai." Mikado had been trying to get my attention for quite some time now it seemed, and I finally was able to process his words enough to mumble a low, "Hm?" I tore my gaze from the sky, which was completely blue except for the occasional cloud, and looked at him. He seemed genuinley concerned.

"What's wrong?" he asked me, keeping his voice low. Masaomi and Anri were sitting opposite of us on the cement, eating lunch and talking. I couldn't distinguish a single word they were saying; It sounded like a bunch of random syllables to me. I was too preoccupied to concentrate on them. However, I did hear Mikado, his voice as clear as the sky.

"I'm having doubts," I said honestly. Perhaps I needed another person's insight to help me unravel the mess in my head regarding Izaya.

Rather than asking what the concrete problem was, he looked up at the tiny puffs of clouds in thought. "Sometimes it's best not to dwell on things or try to sort them out. Just let things take their natural course and sit back." He then looked at me, smiling, and spoke very quietly in case Masaomi and Anri were listening, "I've noticed that the past few months you've been thinking a lot about something. Maybe you need a break." I blinked a few times at him, bewildered. He was more perceptive than I thought.

"Yeah. A break," From Izaya," would be nice." But how could I escape him? Maybe I didn't need to worry about escaping Izaya. He seemed to have been ignoring me, anyways.

***SPOLIER ALERT***  
He smiled warmly at me then joined in on the conversation going on between Masaomi and Anri. They were talking about the news that Orihara Izaya and his younger sisters left Ikebukuro I nodded every so often, adding the occasional comment and my input about how much of a 'manipulative psychopath' Izaya was. I tried to look less distracted, now that I knew how perceptive Mikado was. Still, I saw him sneak glances at me every so often like he was worried. I guess I wasn't that good of an actress after all.  
***SPOILER ENDS***

Izaya wasn't there when I came home, but he did come back right when I came out of the shower. I heard the door open when I shut the water off, and listened closely, standing very still. He was talking to someone on the phone.

"...not enough time," I heard him say nonchalantly. I slowly slid open the glass screen and grabbed a towel from the rack then wrapped it around my body.

I stepped out of the shower and quietly went over tot the bathroom door, which was locked shut. I pressed my hear against the wood, listening intently.

"It's not her that matters." That line confused me. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at the door knob, wishing I could get closer so that I could hear him better. He must have moved farther away from me, because all I heard was him mumbling.

"... just a nuissance," I distinguished amongst the jumbled hum of Izaya's voice.

"To me she's only a..." The rest of the sentence was inaudible. My stomach clenched, and my breathing was uneven. Could he hear my racing heart from where he stood? Was he talking about me?

"I'll get rid of her when she wears out her usage," he said jokingly, and I heard the dangling of a set of keys. The door opened and then closed once more, and Izaya was gone.

I slid down the bathroom door and sat on the floor, stunned. He couldn't have been talking about me. Had I heard him say 'Mizu-chan' while he was talking? I could have sworn that I did. Yet again, I do hear voices that aren't there very often. Is this just another hallucination?

My hair was dry by the time I stood up and stepped out of the bathroom to go to sleep.

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

The air around me was furious, battering my body in it's strong breeze. It was probably a lot stronger up here on the roof than down below where everyone else went about their daily life, unaware of someone staring down at them. Normal people are always so blissfuly unaware.

I was leaning over the concrete barrier that kept me from falling off the edge, with a bottle of gin in my hand and continued to watch the hypnotizing lights below. They had the same calming effects as the alcohol, which I orginally began drinking earlier to forget about Izaya. He'd been ignoring me lately, and I was worried about the conversation he had on the phone a few nights before.

I started to recite a without pause, letting the rythym in my head overwhelm the alcohol in my system. Poetry embodied me, so it wasn't that hard for me to remember the last stanza of Edgar Allan Poe's most infamous and longest poem, "Al Aaraaf." His inspiration came to the discovery of a Super Nova in the 16th century by Tycho Brahe.

_"Thus, in discourse, the lovers while away_  
_The night that waned and waned and brought no day._  
_They fell: For Heaven to them no hope imparts_  
_Who hear not for the beating of their hearts."_

Perhaps it was time for me to fall. I leaned over the concrete barrier a bit more, intrigued at the thought of flying through the air, even if for only a moment. Of course, I'd be falling, not flying, but that didn't matter! Maybe there is an endless supply of gin in Heaven or Hell, or where ever I will end up.

Curious, (with no suicidal intent at all) I leaned forward just enough for my body to flip over the barrier to see if my wings were healed. Would they spread open to catch me before I hit the ground?

I immediately righted myself in mid fall, but the rush of air made it impossible to breathe. Would I suffocate before I hit the ground?

Falling wasn't as exciting as I expected. I had a huge case of butterflies and I couldn't breathe, but nothing special happened. I braced myself for impact, but it seemed that time wasn't exactly accurate in my drunk state.

I passed my balcony in what seemed like a minute, but surely it must have been only a few seconds; I'm at the top floor. I knew where my apartment was despite the blur of colors from falling at such speed because someone interupted my descent.

An inhumanly strong hand grabbed my wrist as I passed the balcony. I was falling towards the earth with incredible force, and when I was abruptly stopped, my shoulder dislocated. I could tell because I heard the same pop that sounded in my head the last time I dislocated it. Sadly, it was the same shoulder again, and I had a feeling this time it wouldn't heal so impossibly fast.

"Anri?" I mumble, my voice a drunk slur. A pair of familiar eyes behind prescription glasses met mine, and she started pulling me up; I was still dangling in midair. When I was safely on the balcony, she knelt beside me, a look of horror and concern crossing her pale face.

"What were you thinking?" she asked, her voice high with terror. I blinked at her a few times and looked at my hand. I managed to hold onto the bottle of gin even while I was falling. It was empty, probably because of gravity or something, but hell I really couldn't think about how all my gin was gone. For a moment, I thought someone drank it on me while I was so distracted.

I repeated the poem I recited before I leapt to my death, and she closed her eyes and sighed.

"Mizuki," she said, calling me informally by my first name, "Mikado told me you seemed depressed lately."

I raised my eyebrow at her, an array of questions brimming in my head, but I couldn't focus due to the alcohol. "Wait, how'd you get in my apartment? And why are you even here in the first place?"

Anri was a horrible liar, and she put her hands up in defense, shaking her head back in forth. "It's not what you think! I mean, the door was unlocked and Mikado told me you looked a bit off today, so I came over to check on you to see if everything was fine."

"Anri. My door is always locked, and I didn't go to school today."

"Uh," She stammered, trying to come up with some excuse. I was tired of the lying, of deciet and secrets, so I sighed, popped my shoulder back into place, leaned against the glass barrier of my balcony, and let the alcohol talk.

"Orihara Izaya. Do you know of him?" I asked, closing my eyes. I wished I had more alcohol to keep my hands busy. There was more inside, but I was far too lazy to go get it.

"Yes," she stuttered, seeming grateful that I had apparently changed the subject. "Why?"

"Because I love him," I had never spoken the words out loud, nor had I allowed myself to even think them, but I knew the moment I said them that it was true. I fell in love with Izaya the moment I met him. Truly, I believed that somehow, against all logic and reason, I loved Izaya before I had even met him.

She smiled a little, her shy demeanor quite apparent, and said in a soft voice, "I'm probably no good at advice when it comes to these sorts of things, Mizuki."

"Would you like to listen anyway? I want someone in this world who I can talk to," I mumbled, looking down.

"Of course."

I began from the beginning, and Anri listened patiently as I spoke, her attention completely on me. I told her about how Izaya and I met, how he saved me, and how he started living with me. I told her about how I knew I loved him, and that he was a demon; This fact didn't seem to surprise her. She didn't say anything until I was finished speaking. I left out the part about me biting myself and my lust for blood, but included my brief encounter with Heiwajima Shizuo and how we connected. I added the tale of how Izaya saved my life yet again when two demons tried to kill me in the elevator when I went to go find him, and how he bandaged me and cleaned my wounds, but I did not include the part about me drinking his blood. I told her about our first kiss, and how I had a feeling that he loved me. I included the past few days, and how he seemed to ignore me after our kiss, which was why I drank to stop thinking about him and skipped school. I promised that I was not suicidal, and that in my drunken state I just wasn't thinking clearly; this was only fractionally true. Not once did I tell her about my hallucinations.

When I was finished, she let out a small puff of air and said, "Do you remember the Slasher a couple months ago?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, confused. Don't tell me Anri was a serial killer.

"The Slasher was being possessed by a demonic blade called Saika, which shows love by slashing people." I wasn't all too shocked about this fact; I was used to the concept of demons and monsters by now. I still didn't understand where she was getting at. Surely this girl wasn't a maniac who went about killing people?

"I am the wielder of this blade." I knew exactly what she was speaking of. I recalled a brief conversation Izaya and I had a few months before about the Slasher. He seemed to know everything that happened in Ikebukuro (mostly because he caused a large fraction of the problems in the city) so naturally I asked him. I sighed in relief, knowing that there was a difference between being possessed by Saika and wielding it.

I waited patiently for her to continue. "The truth is that one of my children-"

She stopped, probably thinking that I didn't know what she meant by 'children,' but I shook my head and said, "I know a lot about Saika. Izaya told me."

"Oh." She blushed, embaressed, but continued. "Well, one of my children lives in a building across from yours. He saw you on the roof and told me, so I came over as fast as I could. The door was locked, so I picked it." She turned even redder, and before she could apologize I told her it was okay, and thanked her instead.

***SPOILER ALERT***  
There was a long moment of comfortable silence before Anri said, "While you were gone, Masaomi ran away."

I stared at her in surprise, worrying a little for my friend. I wondered what made him take such drastic measures. "Why? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Did Izaya tell you about Saki?" She asked, looking down. Obviously this was an uncomfortable topic for her, but there might be something I should know.

"Is she one of the many girls he liked to manipulate?" I asked, already suspecting him of something heinous. She nodded, and I understood immediately.

"What does she have to do with Masaomi?"

"Masaomi ran away with her. Probably to escape Izaya..."  
***SPOILER END***

I sighed, looking up at the sky. "Yeah, I've been thinking about doing that ever since I met him," I admitted, then shot her a sideways glance. "Izaya and his sisters didn't leave Ikebukuro. Mairu and Kururi were killed by a hellhound." I watched her intently, waiting for her to connect the dots. When she did, her eyes widened in horror.

"Mizuki. The victims were girls and all had blue eyes and black hair." I nodded, and she looked concerned. "You were the target all along?!"

I shrugged, thinking about this. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but I wasn't lucky enough for that to be true. "I think so. When Izaya saved me in the alley from one of them, he seemed to have known why it attacked me. He won't tell me anything though, and everyone in Ikebukuro seem to know something about me that I'm unaware of. But they won't tell me, either."

"Like who?" She asked, tilting her head. I wasn't used to conversations about myself, so I was a bit flustered as to how I should react to her questions.

"Let's see... Izaya of course, then there's Heiwajima Shizuo, Simon -the guy who works at that Russia Sushi shop,- the Black Rider, and even Mairu and Kururi seemed to know something." I wished Izaya would hurry the hell up and resurrect those two girls. Then I'd interogate them and make them give me answers.

She blinked a few times, surprised, and said, "Those are dangerous people, Mizuki."

I laughed a little at her concern, smiling in encouragement. "Don't worry. I've been involved with 'dangerous people' all my life."

She didn't seem to think that was helpful information. I was a bit tired, seeing as how late it was, and I could tell Anri was as well. We could finish this conversation some time tomorrow. "Want to crash here?" I offered, slowly standing up. I probably wasn't going to be able to go to school in the morning. I'd definitley have a killer hang over.

"Oh, no that's fine!" She said, standing up with me. She probably didn't get many invites to sleep over other people's houses. I didn't, either.

"I insist," I pressed, and opened the glass door. I slid it shut when we got inside, making sure to leave it unlocked; Izaya didn't have a key to it. Anri finally gave in, thanked me, and bowed a little. Cute and polite.

"You can stay in my room. I'll take the guest room."

"No, I couldn't kick you out of your own room!" she said, shaking her head.

"The alarm clock is set in my room, and I'm going to have too big of a hangover to function tomorrow," I mumbled, yawning. The truth was that I just wanted to stay in the guest room because that was where Izaya slept in. That room always smelled nice.

That night, for the first time in a long time, Izaya never came home, and yet I didn't have a single nightmare, even though he wasn't there to chase them away.

* * *

**Episode 25** (I think)

*Mizuki watches as Izaya and Shizuo demolish the city, a bored expression on her face.*

Mizuki: If that's the damage Izaya can do to a building... then I feel bad for the prostitute he bought the other night.

Izaya: *Hears her from the roof of a building and calls out to her,* BITCHES LIKE IT ROUGH!

Shizuo: IZ-AY-AH!


	6. She's My Drug

**Chapter 6: She's My Drug**

There's a nice breeze up here. They sky's a light blue, the color of her eyes. Before, I never thought much about things as trivial as the sky, or how good a gentle breeze can feel on skin heated from the rays of the relentless sun, but I've come to appreciate the smaller things in life ever since our first encounter.

Mizu-chan stopped doing drugs and smoking. It sort of surprised me when I found out because I never would have thought she'd have the will to quit. She has such a ridiculously addictive personality after all.

Now, however, as I watch her stare blankly off into the clouds while her friends chat amongst themselves about petty and insignificant things like most teenagers do these days, I understand why. She's been hanging out with the leader of the Dollars and the Saika wielder. Last time I checked, Masaomi-kun ran off with Saki and no one's seen them since! They were fun to play with while it lasted.

Mizu-chan tosses a piece of strawberry pocky off the school roof and a bird catches it in mid-flight. She watches as it flies away with its prize until it ducks behind a tall building. I wonder if she's envious of it for being able to fly. She may not be showing much emotion, but I can still see how much she's changed since when I first started watching her a few years ago. Well, much to my distaste, it seems that putting myself back into her life has had the opposite desired effect. Rather than become depressed and hopeless, finding comfort only in myself, she's growing attatched to other people as well.

Is this what jealousy feels like? I sharpen my flickblade on the cement of the roof where I stand and watch Mizu-chan, intrigued by this brand new feeling. I laugh a little, take a few steps forward, and look down the edge of the building to observe the humans and cars below me. If Mizu-chan was on the same roof as me (and not to busy watching those rats with wings fly aimlesslu about) would she be scared I'd fall? Try to stop me and cry until she floods all of Ikebukuro?

But what if I really did jump? There was a time when I knew Mizu-chan would follow me. That she wouldn't be able to live in a world where I don't exist.

Mizu-chan might not need me anymore. She has Mikado and Anri sitting right across from her, eating lunch. That's unacceptable.

I'm probably going to have to drive her friends away from her, or get them to kill themselves. I haven't traumatized anyone since before I killed the hell hound that attacked Mizu-chan a few months ago, so I've been a little bored lately.

When Mizu-chan jumped off the balcony, I was really worried! What if she never came back? I'd have no one to love me.

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

"It's a pleasure working for you, Izaya," Konoka purs, reclining. against the mound of velvet, silk, and satin pillows. She takes a drag from her intricately carved pipe and the thick tendrils of marijuana smoke curl around me. "Want a hit?" she offers while I fasten my belt and zip my jeans up. She's still naked and will stay that way until her last client leaves.

"I don't smoke," I say, chuckling softly. Drugs would greatly inhibit my thought process. Besides, who needs drugs when you've got a girl back home who makes your heart -or lack thereof- feel like it's soaring higher than the sky?

I put a wad of bills on the night stand next to a pile of condoms. Konoka won't live much longer and so she won't be able to use the money anyway, but I think I might as well appease her for now. No one will miss street trash, anyways.

"And here I thought you were _such _a bad boy," she teases me, trying to sound seductive. I've already fed from her chi, so I'm not in the mood for sex anymore. I have other things in mind.

"It's not fair!" I sigh and shake my head, a small smile tugging the corners of my lips.

"What's not fair?" she asks, sitting up and pouting. Her golden hair which hangs in neat ringlets around her cheek bones and piles up on top of her head bounce as she moves.

I sit beside her on the large bed, sliding my hand up her thigh. She shivers at my touch, and I can tell she's aroused once again. Humans are so easy to please, especially ones like her. "I told you a story. but you haven't told me anything." To encourage her more, I lean forward even closer and bite her ear lobe.

"I used to be in college," she says, sighing happily. That isn't the story I'm looking for, so I press further.

"Tell me about your family, Kona-chan," I mumble, pressing my palm against the warmth between her legs. She takes another hit fom the pipe and puts it down to steady her nerves. I push my aura out of my body, sending wave lengths into her that a human cannot help but become intoxicated by.

"Well, my momma died after giving birth to me," she says, and I feel her hesitance. My lips travel down to her neck and I gently nibble her soft skin. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, moaning softly. "And my sister. She," Konoka struggles to get the words out, so I put a single finger into her core. She trembles and gives in to my demands. "She died in the womb."

I don't have enough to torture her with, so I ask in a sorroful voice, "How?"

"Mom fell down a flight of stares," she replied, and a single tear falls down her cheek. As I send more waves of pleasure into her body she surrenders. They always surrender. An Incubus can easily loosen lips with just one touch.

"How?" I repeat.

"Dad pushed her. He was broke and didn't want to pay child support after he and mom split up." The whore's voice is lacking any emotion. mechanical like a machine. She was consumed in pleasure she wasn't able to control because I had unleashed a mere fraction of my demonic aura that I hadn't used when she had begged me to fuck her earlier.

"Then what?" I ask, pulling my hand away from her body; I have already compelled her to answer any question I have now, so I don't have to touch her anymore for her to obey me.

"When mom died he had to take me. The hospital made me stay in treatment until I was six because I was unhealthy, then they gave me to him. He abused me, so I ran away when I was twelve. I went to the Kanto region and I was molested by a man far older than me. I was pregnant from a seventeen year old man at the age of fourteen after he raped me, but the child died during delivery. I joined the Blue Squares when I was fifteen and nearly killed some girl-"

I tilt my head in thought, a sly smile on my face, and interrupt her. "What did she look like?"

"Small with short chesnut brown hair and brown eyes. I think her name was Mikajima."

What a lovely coincidence! I laugh, delighted, and clap my hands a few times in approval. Konoka, of course, doesn't mind, and she looks almost as lifeless as Mizu-chan.

That reminds me. I'd love to dig deeper and get more information out of Konoka, but Mizu-chan will be home soon. I get right to business. When I look away from Konoka, the spell breaks, and she immediately begins to sob.

"Konoka," I sing, looking back at her. She has snot dripping out of her nose and her eyes are red and puffy. She looks like one hell of a hot mess. It's pretty gross, actually.

"You're like a parasite, Kona-chan!" I chuckle and she continues sobbing like she can't hear me. I can see a slight change in her expression. Guilt. "Have you ever asked yourself, 'why did I get to live while my sister died?'"

She nods and chokes out a single word. "Yes."

"And your mother! She's dead because she forfeited her life for you. You've disgraced her name, Kona-chan. What would she think if she found out that she gave her life to you for you to be a whore?"

"I... I don't know."

"Karma killed your child," I pur. I don't believe in karma, but Konoka probably does. "You stole your mother's life, now karma has stolen your child as payment."

"I know!" she shouts, putting her face in her hands. She seems to be having trouble breathing, and I hope she doesn't choke before I have my fun.

"So, you're a whore who lets men fuck her and is nothing but a toy to people like me. Your father didn't want you, and the guy who raped you didn't even care in the slightest about you, did he? He used you for your body." She's trembling now, but she doesn't look up. "No one's ever really loved you, Kona-chan."

She stops shaking, but her face remains buried in her hands, and her breathing gradually steadies. Has she accepted defeat? "But you killed two people. And you've so far only payed the debt of one." I stand up from the bed and go to the window, sliding it up. We're about ten stories in the air, I presume. A fall from this height means certain death.

"Don't you think it's about time you pay the debt you owe? Why don't you do it now?" Checkmate!

"You're wrong, Izaya." I look up and she's glaring at me, but there's something beyond that glare that appears to be pity.

"Oh?" I ask, amused. Most people would have jumped long before now.

"Why don't _you _do it?" she whispers, and her gaze becomes less cold.

I ponder this question for a moment, and because she has entertained me I decide to answer her. "Because someone need me alive. I have a promise I have to keep."

Konoka smiles softly, and her coffee eyes sparkle like they do in the movies.

"Me, too."


	7. I'm Her Biggest Nightmare

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Durarara!

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**Chapter 7:** **I'm Her Biggest Nightmare**

"Izaya. Don't go."

Mizu-chan is sleeping in my room, yet I hear her soft pleads from where I sit at my desk in the living room. She's having another nightmare, and I know what it's about from the words that struggle to escape her lips.

There's nothing I can do for her. She's distracting me from my work, which would be frustrating if not for the gut crunching feeling I have right now that overwhelms everything else. The need to protect her from the demon in her dreams. Me.

"Izaya!" Her shriek pierces me at a thousand different points, and I push the seat back and get up in a single movement. I don't care if she's asleep. I'll wake her up if I have to.

But Mizu-chan's already awake. She's wearing just a large band t-shirt that reaches her thighs and a pair of panties. She's crying, and it is only in this state between consciousness and subconsciousness that Mizu-chan ever shows emotion. Even if she yells at me or throws something. Even then, she's expressionless. Like a doll. A mere ghost of who she used to be.

"Izaya," she echoes, her voice broken and helpless. We meet eachother half way and she wraps her arms around my waist, her tears staining my black shirt.

"Mizu-chan," I say, hoping to soother her. I pull her close and methodically run my hand over her head, and she stops shaking.

"You left," she whimpers, and she looks so fragile it astonishes me.

"I came back," I murmur, kissing the top of her head. Maybe I shouldn't have come back at all. It's dangerous for both of us to be involved with eachother. It's dangerous for her because she's playing with fire and darkness. No one makes friends with a demon and expects everything to be all sunshine and rainbows. That's just how things work. And as for me, well, Mizu-chan showed me love. Real love, something far greater than that I felt for my precious humans. And love softens a person and gives their enemies a weak spot to attack.

Her body stiffens, so I know she's returned to her senses. Her arms loosen but remain where they are, and her forehead still rests against my chest.

"That sounded like a scary nightmare, Mizu-chan." She seems to relax at the sound of my chuckle. "You look terrified! You came running out her, screaming my name, and jumped right into my arms."

"Let me sleep on the floor next to you," she demands, still not looking up.

"You'll interupt me and my work," I say, pulling away and untangling my arms from around her. I turn around to go back to my desk and finish what I started, but Mizu-chan shadows me, and her tiny hands curl around the back of my coat.

"I won't. You keep the nightmares away."

She's rather childish, isn't she? But she is kind of cute. "You're going to get a back ache if you sleep on the floor," I chastise, but she can barely think clearly while she's this tired.

"I'll use your coat to lay on," she mutters and continues to hold onto me like I'm her life line as I lead her to my desk.

"Alright." Mizu-chan's boldness only adds to how cute she is.

We're at my desk now and she slumps down to the floor besides my seat. She bumps her elbow on it on the way down, so it rotates a few times. She still has her hands on my coat and it doesn't look like she'll let go anytime soon. I crouch down and remove it, wrapping the thing around her shoulders. It's quite big on her and it makes her look smaller than she did before I put it on her.

I'm selfish. I prefer Mizu-chan wearing my clothes because when she looks at the fabric, I want her to think of me. And wherever she goes, if she's wearing something that's mine, my scent will invade every thought she has.

Mizu-chan lays down on the floor, cuddling my coat. She quickly falls asleep, but I'm concerned about how she'll feel in the morning, so I quickly leave the room to get a blanket and a pillow from my bed. I return in a fraction of a second.

She's sound asleep so I doubt she'll wake up if I move her. I bend down to gently lift her body and put the think blanket beneath her, then the pillow under her head. She makes a soft noise, almost like a squeak, and curls into a tiny ball with my coat thrown haphazardly over her. Her black hair splays out on the pillow, and the choppy fringe of her bangs frame her cheek as she lays on her side.

I slowly and reluctantly look away from her and sit down in front of the monitor, rolling the chair away from her so that it doesn't hit her head.

There's a lot of clients requiring my services, and it amuses me how some of them are looking for information about eachother. I'll sell information to anyone who offers the right price. It's nothing personal. Strictly business.

Working until four in the morning has its benefits. After sending a virus into each of my clients' data systems in case someone else wishes to buy information about them, I check my profit and smile. Mizu-chan's birthday is approaching, so perhaps I'll take her on a little trip.

She stirs when I get up from my seat and I look down at her, contemplating. Should I leave her or put her on the couch? After a quick moment of consideration, I bend down so I can carry her back to my bedroom.

She awakens, her azure eyes staring at me with accusation. I haven't even layed a finger on her, yet she's already alert.

"Don't go."

"I was going to put you in my room," I counter, avoiding her demands.

She notices and mutters under her breath, "Where will you sleep?"

I pick her up carefully like she has a sign that reads, 'fragile, handle with care,' and put the pillow, coat, and blanket on her so I can carry them all at once. "With you," I say, but her expression doesn't change.

She doesn't protest while I bring her into the bedroom, but she won't let me put her down on the bed myself. "Let me go," she says in that monotone voice of hers, and I do as she asks. She walks on shaking legs to the bed and plops down on it without another word.

I hand her the pillow which she places at the head of the bed, and carelessly toss the blanket over her. I'm fully clothed, and she still has my coat around her shoulders.

"I have to change, Mizu-chan," I pur, then add light heartedly, "Unless you'd rather I be naked?"

"I won't look," she says reassuringly, as if I'd mind if she did.

"Suit yourself," I shrug and begin removing my shirt in front of her while walking to the dresser. Everything in my room is black, save the bed, which has the red blanket and gray and red pillows. Even the heavy drapes are black, if only for the sole purpose of preventing the sun from lighting the room in the morning.

I sneak a glance back at Mizu-chan who was currently biting her lip and looking down. She seemed frustrated almost. She only gets that expression while I'm teasing her.

I open the drawer, still watching desire eat her alive, and pull out a pair of boxers. She glares at some unknown force at the sound of me unzipping my jeans, and her eyes dart over to where I was, then she quickly ducks under the covers, hiding her face.

"Mizu-chan!" I say, my voice mimicking that of a scolding mother, when I'm finished getting changed into just a pair of red, black, and grey boxers. She peeks at me from beneath the blanket, startled. I advance, my hands curl like talons, and I crouch down, ready to pounce. "You looked!"

She sits up, her eyes wide with delicous dear, and I can taste its sweet flavor on my tongue. "Izaya, what-"

I lunge, tackling her onto the bed, and put my hands to work. Her laughter fills the room, and she feebly attempts to escape the torture my hands bring as the tickle ceaslessly on her sides. I haven't seen her this animated in the longest time! Mizu-chan's ticklish everywhere; her arms, legs, stomach, sides, even her chin and behind her ears. She squirms like a worm beneath me, unable to escape. I imagine by now she's in pain from my attack on the surface of her body, and she begins to plead with me to stop, but I have no intentions of doing so.

Suddenly, her lips crush mine, most likely in an attempt to catch me off guard. She suceeds this, if only for a moment, and takes the opportunity to wiggle away, staying on the farthest side of the bed.

"Don't do that," she says, glaring at me.

"Do what? Kiss you?" I tease, but she doesn't say anything. My smirk must have scared her. I collapse on to the large bed. She doesn't relax her position for about another solid five minutes, and then crawls under the blanket, curling up into another ball like she's hugging herself.

I wake up to the gentle, frail arms of Mizu-chan wrapped around me. She's snuggling up to my chest and snoring softly.

"Izaya," she mumbles, her voice quiet and full of adoration. I wonder what she's dreaming of, but as she continues to talk in her sleep, my memories play the scene in my head, and I experience this dream with her.

_"Pretty, right?" Mizu-chan asks in my memories. I feel it as I'm been pulled from reality and into the realm of dreams. My species of demon can enter a person's dreams if they sleep beside them. Most human's dreams are bland and random, that's why I never stay until morning after sex. But not Mizu-chan. She only dreams of me._

_"Yes, you are," My dream self mumbles, pulling her close. She's gazing up at the full moon in wonder which is the most prominent feature in the night sky. When she raises her hand to compare it to the size of her thumb, she frowns._

_"It'll be no bigger than your thumb, where ever you are in the world," I murmur, smiling against the pale skin of her neck which glows in the dull light. She used to like it when I hug her from behind._

_"What about Heaven?" she asks, staring at the moon's reflection on the surface of the still like, which is dotted with red lilies. It's like a mirror, and her gaze shifts to look at my reflection while I glance at hers. Her reflection is the same as the girl sleeping beside me. Her appearance hasn't changed. Will it ever?_

_"You're asking the wrong person, Mizu-chan," I chuckle, then sigh against the curve of her neck. She is destined for Heaven, and I Hell. Two lovers, not even Romeo and Juliet, have ever been as star crossed as us._

_"You know I hate it when you call me that," she grumbles, no doubt in an attempt to change the topic. She didn't like it when I brought up how different we are. North and south. Good and evil. Light and Dark. Opposites._

_"Mizuki." My voice is lilting, and she relaxes. She turns her body to face me, but still my arms remain wrapped around her slim waist. She fits perfectly against my body, her slender arms like soft ribbons reaching up to rest on my shoulders._

_"That's better," she whispers, but the way her azure eyes stare longingly at my mouth akes me think she's not talking about me calling her by her name. It's like my brain is wired to hers, like I know every thought she has. I've tasted her love before - it's sweet, like honey, but less viscous and more lighter. A honey cloud?_

_The thought makes me chuckle, which she ignores, and, in a synchronized movement, we close the distance between our lips._

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

"Rise and shine!" I'm leaning over her body, practically laying on top of her, and my face is just inches from hers. I had thrown the blanket off of her, and due to the scant amount of clothing both of us are wearing, a lot of out skin is touching.

"Meonurgh," Mizu-chan grumbles, and her odd little noises cause me to laugh loudly.

"You're such a dork," I tease, but really I'm a bit disappointed. I'm still laying on top of her, so shouldn't she be flapping around like a fish out of water?

"Get off." Finally. An anticipated response! Still, I'm waiting for more than just a half hearted demand. I want her to struggle.

She starts fighting back when I put all of my weight on her, and gasps for air.

"Fuck! You're such a fatass, Izaya."

She knows how particular I am about my weight, so I counter with a sassy, "Such brave words, coming from the person who came to me because she had a nightmare." I slowly get off of her then take her hand in mine, tugging her off the bed.

"I have a question to ask you," I begin. I've been just dying to ask why Mizu-chan jumped off the roof. I haven't really been able to stop thinking about all the possibilities! What could make Mizu-chan so desperate to jump off a building? She's waiting patiently (because she doesn't care enough to be impatient) for my question, while my mind is preoccupied with a revelation.

"Were you drinking the other night?" I expect her to lie, and then for her eyes to show a hint of recognition, or for her voice ro raise an octave.

Rather than do that, Mizu-chan's expression is blank, but she does admit that she was drunk off her ass rather shamelessly.

"You really shouldn't be walking on top of a roof while you're drunk!" I scold, and add, "You might fall of."

Clearly, Mizu-chan is a bit grumpy this morning, which she demonstrates by growling like an animal. She actually looks angry, and gets even more infuriated when the corners of my mouth turn up at the display of real emotions. Mizu-chan used to have an infamous temper.

"Why the fuck would you care if I died?" she hisses, baring her teeth. She yanks her hand out of mine like I had burned her and storms off, leaving the bedroom.

How strange! It seems Mizu-chan is terribly irritable today.

"I thought I've already made myself clear," I call after her, following her into the living room. "You have something I want."

She doesn't hear me. Mizu-chan's intentions were probably to get some fresh air so that she could calm down, but she was now paralyzed in front of the open balcony doors and a strong breeze was blowing behind her and making her shirt ripple like waves.

"Good," I approve, crossing my arms as I lean against the archway that connects the living room to the hallway. "Another vision." And because of this, she can't hear a word I say.

In the sky are dozens of white specks, each flying with a pair of snowy wings. Feathers take their time to float down onto the balcony, and I notice each one's final destination lays at her feet. Mizu-chan stares at them with uncharacteristic fervor, and doesn't seem to notice anything else.

I wait for her voice, and as sure as the sun will rise each day, it comes. Her voice, not yet tainted by mortality.

_**"When I wake up, I won't remember anything. But I will still love you."**_


	8. Sapphire Rose

**Disclaimer: **Do I even _have_ to stress the fact that I do not own Durarara!? But Mizu-chan is mine.

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**Chapter 8: Sapphire Rose**

Four months.

Was that really it? Such a small fraction of my life had been spent on this man, yet it seemed as if I'd known him all my life.

There was a time when I thought I hated Orihara Izaya, would have casted him into the deepest pit of hell where he belonged, where he was created. But now I know better than anything I'd ever known that, like many others before me, Izaya had reduced me to nothing more than a fly caught in his web.

I wondered if he found me boring.

"Happy birhday, Mizu-chan." Speak of the devil. His arms slithered around me from behind and his chin rested on my shoulder. He caught me by surprise, which caused me to jump a little, and his response was that signature chuckle. "I'm flattered that you're thinking about me," he said, recieving an annoyed sigh. Was he a mind reader or something? "Tell me, what is it about me that you are thinking of?"

He must have thought I would lie, and would torture the truth out of me if I did, so I gave in.

"I'm thinking about how you remind me of a spider," I mumbled, my attention not all there. I was far too busy marveling att French architecture. Izaya had insisted on taking me to Paris for my birthday, which I grudgingly agreed to (after much 'persuasion,' aka more torture). We were staying at a five star hotel, which was no doubt incredibly expensive; it had a grand view of the Eiffel tower, illuminated in a shower of bright and dazeling lights. The sky was the rich, dark shade of purple that comes when dusk falls over any brightly lit city.

"Clearly, you don't know what a spider is," he mocks, but his curiosity gets the better of him. He's like a kitty. "Care to elaborate?"

We were standing on a balcony which was shaped like half a circle and had a white railing around it. I shivered from the November chill, and he pulled me closer and put my arms by my side. He then tucked his fur lined coat around me, still wearing it himself, and waited for tonight's entertainment.

"Because you catch people in that web of yours and eat them until there's nothing left." I looked down at my feet, wishing I had put on slippers before I came out.

"Are you implying that I have trapped you in my 'web,' Mizu-chan?" His hands, which were colder than the air, brushed slightly over my hips. This time I didn't shiver from the cold temperature.

"Are you implying that you have attempted to do so?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow. He couldn't see this action due to the position we're in, although it was involuntary.

"Quite the opposite, actually." Izaya arched his body over mine, and his arms tightened around me, restraining me. "You've turned the predator into the prey." What a liar. If I ever wished to be free if Izaya, he'd hunt me down and ensnare me again.

"Mm," I mumbled, unsure of what to say. He snickered and began pulling me back into the warmth of the hotel room.

"Seeing as how it's technically your birthday," he began, glancing over at the clock that read a quarter past twelve AM, "It's time for you to make a wish." He unwrapped an arm from around me to slide the glass door shut, then turned me around to face him. "I don't have any candles because I don't trust you with fire, so you'll have to just close your eyes and tell me!"

I frowned. Clearly, Izaya didn't grasp the concept of birthday wishes. "But if I tell you it won't come true."

"I'll make it come true." He dropped his other arm and took a step back. "So ask away!"

"You already know what I want," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"Sorry, Mizu-chan, but I don't believe in premarital sex."

"Bullshit," I scoffed. "And no. I mean I want the truth. About everything."

"Okay," he said, catching me by surprise. There was definitley some kind of catch.

"Oh really? That's it?" I asked, incredulous.

"Yep!"

"Fine. So tell me," I demanded, putting a well manicured hand on my hip.

"In the near future." He turned his back on me dismissing my order with a casual wave of his hand.

"You said you'd tell me, and I want you to tell me now," I hissed, my hands clenching into tight fists by my sides.

"You failed to specify when," he said, walking over to the fridge and taking out a bottle of alcohol and two glasses.

"Now." He reached into the freezer, ignoring me, and procured a bucket of ice.

"Too late, Mizu-chan! You've already made your wish." He tossed a few ice cubs into each glass and poured the translucent liquid into them.

"When, then?" I went over to him and he handed me a glass. I took a small sip. Gin.

"I don't know, to be honest," he shrugged, putting the glass to his lips. He watched me closely as he drank, waiting for me to flip out at him.

"If you're unsure of when you'll tell me, then there must be an event in the future that will determine the 'when' factor. Correct?" I jumped up and sat on the counter when he lowered the now empty glass and put it in the sink.

"Why, aren't you a clever one?" He walked over to me and grabbed my legs, hooking them around his waist.

"A clever _what_?" I asked, trying to force back the rising heat in my cheeks. To busy my hands, I took a big gulp of the gin and downed it in a single go, then set the glass down on the counter. His fingers ghosted over my cheekbone, and he tilted his head in that cute way.

"A clever human," he said innocently.

"Izaya?"

He had taken my wrist in his hand and brought it to his lips and when he smiled, his teeth grazed my flesh. "Mizu-chan."

I was locked in his gaze, and I watched his cold brown eyes become the warm color of crimson blood. "What are you?"

Still restraining my wrist in his hand, he lowered the arm that held mine to lean in close to my ear. He nibbled my ear lobe, tuggling a little before letting go, and whispered huskily, "I'm an Incubus."

"You mean a sex demon?" My voice was surprisingly even despite my fluttering heart.

"You can say that," he chuckled and before I fell under his spell, I pushed on his chest to make him look at me.

"I'm not like all the other women you fuck. Don't think for a second you can take advantage of me like that."

He erupted into an explosion of giggles, pulling away and unwrapping my legs from around him. I glared at him, furrowing my eyebrows, wondering what the hell was so funny. "What's your problem?" I hissed, furious that he seemed to find my feelings to be so hilarious.

"Nothing. Nothing," he snickered, patting my shoulder.

"You know I hate when you do that." I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. He stopped laughing so much and put his hand on the counter beside my leg, arching an eyebrow at me.

"Oh? Would you rather I be serious? Tell me the truth now, Mizu-chan. I don't bite." He paused and shook his head after a few moments. "Okay, maybe that's a bit of a lie."

"Well, of course I'd rather you be serious. I don't want to just be some joke to you, someone who you think you can screw around with or fuck with their emotions."

Izaya caught me by surprise when he held his hand out to me, a mischievous smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "Come on. I'll be serious for once."

I glared at him, not taking his hand, which he still kept in front of me. "Did you even listen to a word I just said? You're not going to take advantage of me."

Izaya put on a look of mock pain, shocked by what I just said. "Mizu-chan! You think I'd do something like that to you? I just want to show you how serious I can be."

I slowly and uncertainly put my hand in his, and his fingers curled around mine. I was trapped. "Don't try anything dirty," I mumbled, sliding off the counter. He didn't say anything after that, but he did laugh a little. He led me into the bedroom, where I braced my heels against the floor, stopping him and trying to pull my arm away. "I said nothing dirty!"

"Just because I'm bringing you into the bedroom doesn't mean I plan on using the bed for that reason. Such a perverted mind Mizu-chan has." He poked my nose, leaning closer to me. "Now come on." I sighed and gave in, letting him tug me into the bedroom. He pushed me down on the bad and I began to believe that his intentions were not at all noble. "Close your eyes, Mizu-chan. And no peeking!"

"You better not do anything to me, you sick pervert," I hissed, but eventually closed them obediently. He let go of my hand, and due to how silent Izaya is, I had no idea what he was doing. I suddenly felt movement on the bed behind me, and his hand covered my mouth.

"Don't scream," he ordered, then dropped his hand. I soon felt something cold around my neck and automatically opened my eyes.

"Oh," I said, shocked, as I looked down. There was a glittering silver chain around my neck now, and from it dangled a blue gem the size of my thumb carved into a rose with a silver stem and thorns.

"It's a sapphire. I tried to find the closest color to your eyes." I turned my head to look at him, and he was kneeling on the bed behind me. "The clasp is a small lock, so you can't take it off," he grinned deviously, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Why can't I?" I asked, curious.

He reached his arm around me and put his hand under my chin to tilt my head up. He then bit down on my neck -to which I responded to by gasping- and mumbled against my skin, "Because I said so."

"Logic," I scoffed, and he snickered. "Thank you, Izaya," I finally whispered, looking down at the rose once more and gently lifting it with my fingers. "It's beautiful."

"Mm," he mumbled, this time at a loss for words. The tables had turned in my favor. "Do I get a kiss of gratitude?"

"Don't push your luck," I muttered, and I could feel his laughter vibrate in his chest which was pressed up against my back.

"So I'm going to keep it on forever and ever?" I inquired, my small fingers clutching around the rose. Forever and ever was a very long time.

"Forever and ever."


	9. The Sun and the Moon

**[AN] **Because I'm such a fucking bad ass, I opened my Christmas presents already (and wrapped them back up afterwards so no one would notice I looked) and I got SO much Durarara! merch. *fangirls* Now I get to go cosplaying for the first time as Izaya. :D~

**Disclaimer: **I don't own DRRR! I think that's pretty obvious by now, so I'm going to stop putting disclaimers up...

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**Chapter 9: The Sun and the Moon**

It's ironic how, despite my aversion to people and noise, I had decided to move to Ikebukuro a few years ago. Perhaps it was because during my life with my foster father I had lived in a small suburban town, and I wanted change. But that wouldn't make any sense. I hated change. So why did I come here? Was it something called fate? Destiny? The 'gravitational like pull' that Izaya has on me? That seemed most the reasonable -but still ludicrous- idea.

Luckily, the bag of taiyaki that I held carefully in my arms soothed me. Taiyaki is my favorite snack. I prayed to the God of Delinquents to protect me from getting bumped into and dropping my bag. A few shoulders met mine every so often, but I had impeccable balance so nothing ended up getting spilled onto the dirty sidewalk.

Unfortunately, the God of Luck was _not _on my side, and I ended up sliding on a few ice cubes on the ground. Apparently, someone had dropped their drink and it had a decent amount of ice in it. My bag of taiyaki flew up into the sky, and I crashed down right on my ass. The good citizens of Ikebukuro did not assist a girl like myself; I'm far too intimidating due to the way I dress, so not a single hand reached out to help me. I was used to it, and of course I wasn't offended. I wouldn't dress in black and skulls if I gave a shit about what others thought about me, would I?

I watched with an empty stare as the bag met the pavement, its contents spilling out and becoming contaminated by the germ riddled street.

It was very unlikely that Prince Charming would ride up on a white horse and help me, a damsel in distress, so I picked myself off the ground, brushing off my now soiled pure white skirt, and went over to the bag of taiyaki to see if any were still in the brown bag.

When I bent over to inspect it, I gently lifted up the edge of the bag and peeked inside. Not a single fish shaped waffle survived.

"I hope you're not planning on eating that," muttered a rough voice, and I turned my head to look at who it was that was speaking to me. Sunny blonde hair. Coffee colored eyes. Bar tending suit and blue shades. Heiwajima Shizuo. He had an umbrella in his right hand. It didn't look like it was going to rain, though. I glanced one last time at my spoiled treats and stood up straight, turning towards him.

"Where were you when I fell down and dropped it?" I interrogated, but I was not at all disappointed in him. He did have horrible timing, though.

"Beating some guy's ass." Shizuo hated violence yet he had a short temper and his line of work required kicking the shit out of people. He was a contradiction.

I closed the distance between us, grateful for his presence; he created a bubble of space around us that no one dared to penetrate. "Well, what brings you here?"

He exhaled a big puff of air and his hand went into his pocket where I could see the carton of cigarettes bulging from. Surprisingly, he didn't take any out. "Actually, I've been looking for you," he admitted.

"What do you need?" I really hoped he wasn't going to ask me about Izaya. That was a conversation I would gladly steer away from.

"I just want to hang out. Is that cool with you?" He shoved his free hand in his other pocket and looked away. Shizuo was kind of cute when he was flustered and didn't know what to say.

"Sure." I felt a drop of water on my head and looked up to see the clouds darken and veil the sky. It began to rain heavily and I looked down to avoid getting water in my eyes. Shizuo opened his umbrella and stepped closer to me, shielding us with it from the rain.

"What do you want to do?" he questioned. I thought about this for a moment, not wanting to do anything too extravagant or expensive'He .

"We can go to your place." I would have offered to go to mine but Izaya might have shown up unexpectedly. That would not end well for my humble abode.

"Alright." We began to walk in the direction of what I assumed would be his home. It wasn't that far of a walk, and we arrived at his apartment complex after probably ten minutes. We climbed the stairs and I waited for him to take his keys out and unlock the door. Instead, he just turned the knob and opened it.

"You don't lock your door?" I know he was intimidating and no one would ever dare to mess with him, but really. Someone might not know he lived there and steal his stuff or something.

"Nah. I lose my keys all the time anyways." He led me inside and I took a quick look at my surroundings. His place was much more humble that my own.

I was hesitant upon walking in; my skirt was dirty and I was soaked. Shizuo seemed to know what was wrong and walked past me while saying, "I'll get you some clean clothes," and going into his bedroom. He returned a few moments later with a bundle of fabric. "Here. You can change in my room."

"Thank you." I gingerly took them into my arms and retreated to his bedroom and closing the door behind me. He had given me a blue hoodie, a dark gray v-neck shirt, and black sweats. I undressed and put them on. When I pulled the hoodie over my head, I paused for a moment and breathed in his scent.

_'He smells even better than Izaya...' _I thought such a feat would be nearly impossible, but Shizuo somehow did have a nicer scent. I stepped out into the living room once again and he was sitting on the couch watching TV. "Want some coffee?" he asked when he saw me, switching his attention from the screen to myself. I noticed him looking me up and down and shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes, please." He stood up and closed the distance between himself and the coffee maker in the kitchen; it wasn't that far away. His apartment was rather small. He began to prepare the coffee and I sat down next to the spot he was in on the sofa. I didn't usually find anything awkward, but Shizuo was acting kind of weird.

He sat back down next to me and yawned, stretching his arms. It was only four o'clock and a Sunday. I had school the next day, which I was not looking forward to. I'd been getting bullied lately. People were blaming me for Masaomi-kun's disappearance, and normally I wouldn't be affected by it but Masaomi was my friend, and the rumors were about him just as much as myself. Apparently, he ran away because I fucked him and then ran off with Izaya. Seriously? Is this what teenagers did in their free time? Start bullshit rumors for the shits and giggles?

"So, how's the flea?" I knew this question would be coming. It was inevitable, like the sun rising in the morning each day, or taxes.

"You know the answer to that question already, Shizuo." I didn't want to deal with his behavior any longer. I missed the Shizuo I had grown to like, who I trusted. "Now why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

Shizuo's eyes widened behind his shades, which he was still wearing despite the cloudy sky and being indoors. "What do you mean?" He really was a horrible liar. He grumbled something under his breath and looked away, glaring at the TV like the news about a toy drive for poor children pissed him off.

"You keep looking at me like I'm a time bomb about to explode. And you haven't touched a single cigarette." I didn't like how Shizuo smoked so often, but it usually relaxed him, which was something he needed. Relaxation. A good back massage, perhaps. "Plus, you haven't been loud, rude, or vulgar. So," I paused, trying to pick my words carefully; I wasn't good with words, "Just chill."

"I'm on my best behavior," he muttered, but finally kicked his dress shoes off, put his feet on the coffee table, and reached into his pocket for a cigarette. When he lit it, the scent wafted towards me and I relaxed a bit more. "Thanks. I'm just not used to people..." Shizuo couldn't finish his sentence, but I understood what he meant. He wasn't used to people accepting him for who he really was. We were very similar in many ways.

"Shizuo is like the sun. And Mizuki is like the moon." I closed my eyes and leaned back, tilting my head towards the ceiling. I suddenly felt something press against my bottom lip, and I opened my eyes once again to see Shizuo holding the cigarette to my mouth.

"Want a drag?" Okay, I smoke. But not religiously like Shizuo does. And I do drugs. But hell, that's my problem. Shizuo's probably going to get lung cancer because of how often he smoked. I admit that I am quite the hipocrite.

Rather than answering him, I parted my lips and took a drag while he held it for me. He got back into his original position and flicked a bit of ash into a tray.

"Shizuo?" The blonde looked over at me, but when he was about to question me, we heard the ding of the coffee maker. "I was just wondering when the coffee would be ready," I lied, and he put the cigarette in the tray and got up to tend to the pot. I watched him add a ton of sugar and cream to both of the cups, which I was eternally grateful for; I liked sweets. Another thing both of us had in common. He came back to me with both of our cups and handed me mine.

"Thanks," I said, holding it in both of my hands and taking a big gulp. He grunted, which I assumed was a 'yup' or 'you're welcome,' and began to drink his.

I stared down at the brown liquid that warmed my body from head to toe, then thought of his eyes. They were warm, too. "Shizuo."

I saw him look at me from the corner of my eye and he mumbled a 'hm?' and put his empty cup on the coffee table.

"Why do you hate Izaya so much?" The question almost everyone had, the question everyone had the answer to. Izaya hated Shizuo because he didn't respond to words or reason, and unlike many other humans, Shizuo could not be controlled by him. Shizuo hated Izaya because he was a manipulative prick. I couldn't help but wonder if there was more than that to their hatred.

There were a few minutes of predicted silence between us, and I peeked at him to see his expression. I expected him to look pissed off, but I of all people should have known that there was more to Shizuo than his anger. Instead, he seemed like he was thinking of a very fond memory. His expression was soft and he gazed out the small window at the vast city.

"I'm engaged, and he took the girl I love from me." Simple and to the point. My eyes widened in surprise and he looked at me, his eyes now full of grief. I had no idea Shizuo was engaged. And he was _still _engaged. "That's why, when I first saw him at Raira and found out we'd be going to the same school, I attacked him." Holy shit.

"Wait, how long have you been engaged?" I turned towards him, curious, and he ran his fingers through his tousled blonde hair.

"A while. It's an arranged marriage. But regardless, I still love her. I will always love her." His gaze was smoldering and my heart did a small little flip. Shizuo was a very passionate person. His emotions were strong and powerful, and I could feel them in the air around us somehow. I felt the blood rise to my cheeeks and he looked away from me.

"Where is she now?" Shizuo buried his face in his hands and rested his elbows on his legs, leaning over. I heard his teeth grind and put a hand on his shoulder to help him relax.

"She's in Ikebukuro," he growled, but rather than pull my hand away I smiled reassuringly.

"Great! We can go find her and do something about this." I stood up and took his hand in mine, tugging on his arm. He didn't budge a single inch.

He shook his head and finally looked up, glaring at me. "Mizuki, it doesn't matter anymore. We may still be engaged but it's over between us." It felt like he was reffering to _us _being engaged, which was a ridiculous idea that I brushed aside with a sting of guilt. "Now why don't you go run back to that fucking flea?" He ripped his hand from my grip and my smile faded.

"I'd leave if that's what you really wanted. But you don't want me to go. So I'm staying with you." The wave of emotions he sent into me was startling, and I couldn't wrap my mind around them all. They weren't even my emotions; they were his, and the floated through me and gave me knowledge of what he was feeling. I had no idea what to do with this information, however.

"Get the hell out of my apartment," he demanded, his voice full of anger and power. I was scared, but I didn't let it show. Shizuo needed me, and that was more important than acting upon senseless fear.

"You won't hurt me." I reached for his hand and quickly took it, squeezing it tightly. "See? You don't have to ask me to leave because you think you'll end up hurting me in a fit of anger. _I trust you._"

I felt a thick, impenetrable wall between us crumble to the ground and before I could see his expression, he grabbed my forearm and yanked, pulling me to him. I leaned awkwardly over his lap and his arms wrapped around me, his face in the crook of my neck. "You understand that people are keeping things from you, right?" I nodded slowly, shocked. Was he going to reveal something to me? The secret that no one was letting me in on? "I am bound by laws to not reveal anything to humans. You are special, Mizuki, but you are part human. So be patient."

"When will I know everything?" I didn't return his embrace, but I didn't pull away either.

"You'll know when your memories return." Such a vague answer. Is that really all anyone will give me?

He let me go and I sat down beside him. "I don't want to go home. Izaya will be there."

Shizuo nodded, and I was suddenly very aware of the cold sapphire rose against my skin beneath Shizuo's warm hoodie.

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

Shizuo and I walked in silence, fingers intertwined, towards Raira Academy. I asked him to walk me to school and he reluctantly gave in. He had work to do, but I almost begged him to come with me. Almost.

People were staring at us. Heiwajima Shizuo, the strongest man in Ikebukuro -probably the strongest man in the world- holding hands with a small, fragile looking girl that looked like a lifeless, porcelain doll. I wasn't used to all the stares. I didn't mind though. I could tell Shizuo did, but he probably got a lot of looks where ever he went in Tokyo. Today was probably worse than usual for him. I could tell he was trying his best to retain his composure.

There was nothing romantic going on between the two of us. By holding hands with Shizuo, I was making a point; I was proving to him that he could have basic, natural human contact with people without hurting them. A bonus was that if Izaya showed up, the close proximity between our bodies would prevent Shizuo from picking up the nearest street sign or vending machine and throwing it at his face. I hoped.

"Thanks for walking with me," I said as we got to the Academy. He nodded and let go of my hand, but not before a crowd of students noticed us and began staring.

"You're not going to get in trouble for not wearing your uniform, right?" He glanced at my attire; the same clothes that he had given me the night before.

I shook my head and shrugged one shoulder. "I'll just wear my gym uniform."

"Alright. Well, see ya." He turned ever so slightly away from me, his eyes still on mine behind his shades, then hesitantly leaned down. His face was right in front of mine, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. He seemed to be having second thoughts, and his lips settled for a spot on my cheek bone. He then turned away from me completely, heading in the opposite direction that we came.

"Bye," I said to the wind.


	10. A Hurricane of a Thousand Wings

**[AN] **So many ideas shoved in my head! I must make it to the climax of Part 1 before I leave! I have NO idea how many chapters I'll have to write... Gah! Things will begin to pick up after this chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 10: A Hurricane of a Thousand Wings**

I was surprised that Izaya didn't scold me when I got home. I did, after all, sleep over his arch nemesis's house.

Instead, the leach greeted me with a "Welcome home, Mizu-chan!"

"Uh... Hello." I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter and, remembering my shoes were still on, went back to the mat and took them off. I was also wearing said nemesis's clothes.

"I've missed you _so _much, but I got to go. You know me. I'm quite the busy man," Izaya said, chuckling darkly.

"Yeah, yeah. Go fuck your whores now." Shizuo... Izaya... I weighed their worth, and right now Shizuo's side tipped the scale.

"Oh, I won't be feeding my hunger today. I have more important things to do." Izaya donned his fur trimmed coat and grabbed his set of keys from the hook near the door.

"Such as?" I asked, disorientated by his scent. He noticed, and with a sly smile he walked closer until my back met the door.

"It involves our friend Shizuo," he murmured, putting his fingers under my chin to tilt my head up. "One day you'll realize just how big of a monster he really is. I'll prove it to you."

"Don't be mean to him," I mumbled as he kissed my neck. Rather than staying in the usual spot, his lips went up to my jaw until his mouth was an inch from mine.

"I wouldn't dare," he said against my skin, and suddenly our lips met.

The kiss was rough, and it was only the second time we shared one. He forcefully and skillfully slipped his tongue into my mouth while his hand snaked through my hair. He pressed closer, trapping me between his body and the wooden door behind me, not giving me a single moment to catch my breath

Then it was over.

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you get when you know somethings about to go horribly wrong? Yeah, I had that feeling right now, and it was tying my guts in tight knots.

I was always the one who went out to look for Izaya, and tonight was no different. He never came to my rescue. Sure, he saved me once in the elevator and stitched up my wounds, but that was only because of the convenience. He'd never, ever come find me if I was in trouble.

Despite all of this, I still loved him. I couldn't help it. I didn't _want _to love him, but it was like I was born to. I'd never lost someone I loved, but I heard it was a horrible thing to go through. I wasn't very masochistic, so I justified my actions by convincing myself that I only looked out for Izaya because I didn't want to get hurt when something bad happened to him.

"Shoes, shoes, shoes," I reminded myself as I was just about to run out the door in just my socks. I slipped on a pair of maroon boots to match my thick, maroon sweater and black jeans. I changed out of Shizuo's clothes because I had worn them the night before and they were currently in the washing machine.

"Keys," I drawled, grabbing the other pair from the hook and shoving them in my pocket. My heart was thudding violently in my chest.

I almost forgot to shut the door behind me after I left my apartment. I checked my cellphone for the time. It was five o'clock but already dark out, the black sky covered in thick clouds that suggested more rain. I adjusted the black scarf around my neck and looked around me warily. The streets seemed less active. Of course there were still plenty of people out, but somehow it was different. Like the happiness was sucked dry from Ikebukuro, leaving in its wake only melancholy.

I didn't know where to go, but thankfully that little voice in my head told me. **_"Go to Shizuo's."_**I wouldn't advise listening to evil voices in your head, but I was a reckless individual and I had no other leads. So I listened to that voice, hoping it would lead me to Izaya. I'm like the fucking dumb ass chick who'd open the creepy closet in a horror movie when there's _clearly _a psychopath in there.

I knew Ikebukuro like the back of my hand. I had only been to Shizuo's apartment once before, but I knew the shortcuts to get there. I didn't run, not in these boots, nor did I walk at a brisk pace. I was cruising.

After travelling through a few alleyways, I came across an empty and desolate lot surrounded by old buildings. If Izaya and Shizuo were together, I would have expected to have heard them first, but instead I saw them before I could make out what they were saying. They were smack dab in the middle of the lot, and their voices were low and inaudible from where I stood. They didn't seem to notice me, and there was a dumpster conveniently located in the lot. I ducked behind it, squatting down on the ground because, obviously, it was a fucking dumpster, and like hell I'd want to touch the ground around it.

I still couldn't hear them, no matter how much I tried, but it's not like I was going to hop out from my hiding spot and be like, "Hey guys." It'd be too awkward.

Then, completely out of nowhere, Shizuo screamed bloody murder and charged towards Izaya, throwing punches towards him. The onyx haired man was too fast for the blonde, and easily jumped out of dodge, his switchblade slicing through the air.

"Now now, Shizu-chan. No need to be so violent," Izaya teased. Shizuo may be strong, but his power didn't matter if he wasn't fast enough to land a hit on Izaya.

I couldn't let this happen. I couldn't stand back while those I cared about tried to kill each other.

"Stop it! Please!" I shrieked, but no one heard me. It was just Shizuo and Izaya and their anger. I could tell when Shizuo began to pick up speed, when Izaya began to sweat while trying to dodge each thunderous punch the blonde aimed at him. Drops of perspiration dripped down his pale face, but still that maniac smiled.

He knew he would lose. Whether or not Izaya preordained all of this didn't matter when Shizuo's fist came in contact with his opponents haw. Izaya was fast, a cruel and powerful demon, but even he wasn't indestructible. His face did not contort in surprise or pain, but the force of such a deadly hit sent him flying into a concrete wall thirty feet away from where he originally stood. That punch would have knocked a human's head right of their shoulders. I was grateful that Izaya wasn't human.

"No!" I cried, and Izaya finally heard me. He laughed horribly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back towards the sky as if he was the one who had emerged victorious. I raced towards them, trying to get to Izaya before Shizuo, who was slowly advancing, his eyes flaming with rage that burned like fire. That fire had consumed my friend almost entirely, leaving in its wake only blind fury.

I didn't make it in time. Unable to control himself, Shizuo shot forward like a bullet from a gun and closed the distance between him and his prey. "You damn flea!" he screamed. Izaya had slumped down onto the pavement, his laughter echoing all around us in the empty lot. It didn't even falter when Shizuo picked him up by the collar of his shirt and bashed his head against the wall repeatedly. He kneed him in the gut, spit on him, kicked, and punched countless times before I reached them. I didn't even have time to cry when I saw the broken and bloody mess Shizuo was leaving him in.

But would he ever stop now that he finally had the chance to wipe Izaya off the face of the Earth? He was going to kill Izaya if I didn't stop him.

"Stop it!" I repeated, punching Shizuo's back until my knuckles bled and grabbed his hair and pulled. It was more dangerous than taunting a lion in the middle of its feast.

He growled, a deep and furious and threatening sound, then turned his attention away from Izaya to swipe his arm in my direction. I didn't know what part of me he hit because immediately pain overwhelmed my entire body like I had just been hit by a wrecking ball.

A black sheet covered me and it was heavier than I could lift. I pushed and pushed, trying to find something other than the blackness, but it was like I was trying to hold air; there was nothing tangible that I could grab on to.

I was about to give up and let the nothingness crush me - after all, what did I have left to fight for?- when Izaya's infectious laughter echoed once more. I had something to hold onto. I grabbed the only thing that manifested underneath the black sheet and let it do the work in carrying me out of the dark void.

"Don't let it win, Shizuo," I warned, staggering as the agony rocked me. There had been no pain beneath the black sheet, and I regretted leaving that place. Haven't I learned by now that nothing itself is better than pain? Something welled up in my throat and I instinctively coughed it up. It was blood, and it splattered on the pavement like paint from a brush. "If you kill him what will be left after?!"

Izaya stopped laughing and Shizuo stared at me in horror. "Mizuki," he said, his voice rough and hard to hear. He let go of Izaya's shirt like he'd been electrocuted and looked at his hands. He screamed in one last fit of destruction and he threw one last punch that had the power of every spell of madness and anger he felt in his life.

He ended up burying his arm shoulder deep into the wall right next to Izaya's head, punching right through to the other side. The cement and plaster cracked and crumbled, and dust rained down to the ground along with the rubble. He tore his hand free and without so much as a glance towards Izaya, he turned on his heel, and grabbed a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket. While he was trying to light it, the lighter shattered in his iron grip, so he threw it away from him, shouting profanities to the Heavens.

"Shizuo..." I whispered and reached my hand out to him as he started to walk away, eventually letting it drop to my side. His anger swarmed around him like a completely different entity, thick and impenetrable.

I wanted to go to him, comfort him an tell him something that would help him calm down, but I couldn't. Izaya was probably unconscious right now, and he needed me. And I need Izaya.

I fell to my knees beside him, whose face was covered in blood. I wiped away the majority of it, revealing perfect skin behind the crimson stains. He had already healed. His nose was crooked, and he raised a hand to realign it. There was a soft crunch yet he didn't wince.

"Stupid!" I criticized, then slapped him across the face before collapsing into his arms. "Why didn't you fight back?"

Dark clouds concealed the moon, making it almost completely dark. The wind began to pick up but the tall buildings around us protected us from most of it. TI could feel a few drops of rain fall on my shoulder and head at the exact same time that a streak of lightning illuminated the night, followed by a clash of thunder. It started to rain much more heavily, so I wrapped his arm around my shoulder, trying to help Izaya stand.

"I don't want to catch a cold," I muttered, but what I really was worried about was Izaya getting one.

"Liar," he accused, chuckling softly. He stood up on his own and it looked to me as that he was completely fine. Izaya's just good at faking. The damage was internal.

The same dark aura I felt the night I went out to look for Izaya so long ago suddenly made itself apparent. I realized then that if I was more perceptive I would have noticed it the moment Shizuo left the abandoned lot, but I was far too preoccupied with Izaya at the time.

Izaya snickered, pushing me behind him so that my back was pressed against the wall. He sensed the aura gradually growing stronger as well, so he rushed to speak.

"I guess I just got my ass kicked for nothing," he joked, although he sounded a bit disappointed. I looked around his arm so that I could see his face. He pushed me behind him again.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, ready to scold him for allowing himself to get hurt.

"I wanted you to see how much of a monster Shizuo is," he explained, and for the first time since I met him he didn't use his pet name for Shizuo. "I promised I'd show you. But I should have know you wouldn't be afraid." He paused, then laughed bitterly, like he was mocking me. "You just _love _monsters."

So, that was why Izaya laughed like he just won the lottery when Shizuo beat the shit out of him. Why he didn't even fight back. And why, when I didn't forsake Shizuo for what he had done, Izaya stopped laughing.

"I won't forgive you easily," I said, my voice quiet and broken. "You hurt Shizuo."

The jerk scoffed and shook his head, his hair tickling my nose. "You helped him find control. He's still upset he hit you, but that's what he needed to reign in his anger. He had to hurt someone he loved and suffer the consequences."

"I won't forgive you," I echoed, but with the "easily." I expected him to come up with some smart ass remark, but he was silent for a moment. I wished I could look at his face to see his expression, but his baack was to me while he used his body as a shield against our approaching foes.

The enemy of Shizuo, Izaya... And soon I would discover, myself.

* * *

**[AN] **Mizuki's secret will be unveiled in the next chapter! I hope it's at least slightly surprising/ meets your expectations. I'm so glad my plans for Part 1 can finally be revealed!


	11. Betrayal

**[AN]** Yeah, I know this is the shortest chapter I've ever written, but there's a LOT that I need to shove into the next chapter. I'm so sorry... Forgive me. The secret is not revealed yet.

**Chapter 11: Betrayal **

I didn't see them coming. It was like they appeared out of nowhere, manifesting from the darkness around us. First there was just Izaya and myself, and the next moment we had company.

We were surrounded by a group of men and women all dressed like they were here in a business trip. They looked fairly normal, none of them exquisitely beautiful or even terrifying. I knew better. I could feel darkness leaking off of them, having grown accustomed to the strange entity due to spending so much time with Izaya. Shizuo was the complete opposite; despite his malicious demeanor, he carried an aura of Light.

There were seven of them, four women and three men. They created a semi circle around us, blocking off any means of escape. Then, the two in the center parted and made way for another addition to our party.

It was Izaya.

"Izaya..." I whispered, my eyes wide as they flickered back and forth between the crimson eyed version and the bright pink eyed version.

"So we've finally found the elusive dove who had her wings clipped off," said the Izaya with light pink eyes. He was dressed all in white with a few pink buttons and whatnot. His voice was hypnotic, and I swayed back and forth as the blood rushed to my head.

"Psyche," Izaya said pleasantly to his twin, but I knew that tone of voice very well; he was pissed off.

"Ah, Izaya-kun! I see you've kept my little bird safe while I was away." An equally pleasant voice, but it was very different from Izaya's. It was more condescending.

"She's always been mine, and she always will be," Izaya declared, staking his claim on me. I wouldn't have approved of their arguing over me like I was the last pair of shoes in a store, but I really couldn't think clearly. It was like I was being drugged.

"Step aside, Izaya. We share the same features, and I really don't want to see that pretty face of yours ruined." As if on cue, the people around us closed in. Izaya didn't move an inch.

"Alright, take her."

Those words were like cold water splashed on my face and woke me up from my dreamlike state. "What do you mean?" I asked him, confused. Was he really going to give me up so easily?

"Surely you understand why I've stuck around with you for so long, don't you?" he asked me with mock surprise. He turned his head in my direction. Never before had he worn a smile as distant and cruel as he did that moment.

"I'm glad you're cooperating," said Psyche when Izaya stepped forward and away from me.

"You didn't really think this was going to last forever, did you, Mizu-chan?" He made that 'tsk tsk' noise and shook his head, holding his hands in one another behind his back. I wasn't frozen from the effect Psyche had on me; I was now frozen in shock from Izaya's words.

"I'll take care of getting rid of her belongings and making it seem like she never existed," Izaya told Psyche. I let myself be pulled away from my spot by a few demons who gripped my arm with a bit too much pressure. I didn't feel it.

"I'm afraid that won't be necessary." Psyche turned towards the three demons restraining me and ushered them away with a wave of his hand. He then put his arm around me and pulled me close to his side. "Watch closely, Mizuki," he whispered in my ear, bending down a little to do so. "You see, Izaya," Psyche raised his voice for him to hear, "I know every trick up your sleeve. All I have to do is think 'what would I do if I were in his position?'"

The silent men and women's gazes fixated on Izaya, who raised his eyebrow and laughed. "You really don't get my motives, do you?"

"No. I don't _But I don't care." _Suddenly, a woman brandishing a sword leaped forward and plunged it into Izaya's stomach.

I couldn't feel anything anymore, but I could hear. I heard the screams. The screams were mine, but I wasn't making a sound. The screams were from a memory.

_**"I'll come back for you."**_The voice in my head wasn't the same, this time it was his. It was Izaya's, and his promise was a lie that I had held on to for three years.


	12. Seraph

**[AN] **Yay! The secret is unveiled! I'm considering making another fanfiction with events from Mizuki's past to fully explain the relationship between her and Izaya. If at least one person would like this, I'll start writing! So just leave a review or PM me if this is something you'd look forward to.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Seraph**

_Hyōgo Prefecture, Japan, 1995_

It was a stormy night. Perhaps the rain was an omen for what was to come. Maybe it was to extinguish the hungry fires that had eaten everything in their paths. Or maybe the rain's sole purpose was to wash away the heavy stench of blood.

How very fortuitous it was to come across a wounded demon on my first trip to the Land of the Living as a full fledged Healer. I was dropped off in a large, now ruined city, after it had been hit be a devastating earthquake, and my mission was to heal the survivors. I had to carefully select those I assisted. I could only save humans who were vital to society, expansion, or reconstruction. However, I _was_ allowed to take away anyone's pain. There were not many other angels assisting me. Because of technology, a Healer's assistance wasn't required anymore, so there were less of us.

It was far into the night and I had to keep my wings and halo concealed by shifting into my human form. I had been searching for the remaining survivors when I smelled blood. It had a wonderful, sweet scent, much unlike human blood. Naturally, I followed my nose to the source of the smell and after a few minutes I found it.

I knew he was a demon because of the curved horns on his skull, the leathery tail and bat-like wings. My only means of defense was a tanto, which I slowly retrieved from my sash and held carefully. I was never taught how to use one. I could tell he was still alive because he was surrounded in a pool of his own blood; when a demon dies, their blood disappears almost immediately. The bod takes a little over an hour to deteriorate.

With the utmost of caution, I approached the beast, climbing over stone and iron bars, careful not to fall into a hole within the rubble or step on a loose brick. When I finally reached him, I saw that he had broken his right arm in the different places, that his right wing was slashed, that he had received various lacerations, and that at least three of his ribs were shattered. Thankfully, he was unconscious.

I knelt down beside him and raised my tanto over his heart. I had also never killed anyone or anything before, so dispatching this demon would go against everything that I am and have felt before. I remember my old instructors telling me "to kill a demon is not a sin." That wasn't very reassuring.

I would not ruin everything I'd worked so hard for and created by killing a lowly demon. The best and most reasonable option was to call in The Guard and have them handle the beast. I reached into my satchel and procured the silver flute that would summon them.

The silver glistened from the heavy rain and I closed my eyes as I pressed my lips to the mouth piece.

"Such beautiful, icy eyes." Startled, I lowered the flute, cautiously staring at the now conscious demon. His eyes were the first things I noticed. They were a vibrant and angry red color, lacking any humanity, kindness, or compassion. Never in my existence did I expect to see eyes as full of hatred and detest as his. I was in the midst of an angry demon who would love nothing more than to rip my head off yet I did not feel an ounce of fear.

"Why?" I asked, readying myself for a negotiation. I did not let my guard down for even a moment.

"Because if I'm captured or killed I won't be able to help you." His pain was very apparent despite the fact that he was hiding it well. My ability to detect pain was the only way I'd be able to notice it. His voice was sweet and condescending, and I could already gauge how arrogant he was.

"I don't need your help." I pressed the flute to my lips once more.

"You're hesitating. You aren't going to call your friends. Your probably lied just now because you were expecting me to spill my guts." He was very perceptive. I returned the silver instrument to my satchel and waited patiently. "Well? Aren't you curious to know what I have to offer?"

I nodded, making his grin widen. "Its nothing materialistic but exponentially more precious than an item or money. Priceless, even."

"Continue." He was trying to build up my anticipation. It wasn't working.

"Right now, you're probably thinking I'm trying to get you anxious.." He must have been a fucking mind reader. But he did say 'probably' which meant his observation was merely a hunch, "but its just part of my personality. I wouldn't try to do such a thing because I know who you are."

"Alright then. Who am I?"

"Shimizu Mizuki. The one and only angel hybrid." He shifted himself into a sitting position, reclining against a piece of concrete.

"What does this have to do with my anticipation, or lack thereof?" I inquired, not at all shocked that he knew who I was. I was being hunted by scores of demons under direct orders to make me sin, thus Fall.

"Mizu-chan, everyone knows that the price you payed for being a hybrid was your humanity and emotions. Ironic, isn't it?" Mizu..chan? The demon's observations were spot on, yet unlike those he tormented before me, I did not feel a shred of anger or annoyance towards him.

"What is your name?" I had plenty of time to interrogate him, so I was by no mean in any rush.

"My name is Orihara Izaya and I am an incubus," he replied. Despite hour idle chatter, the flames of hatred in those crimson eyes did not die.

"And what can you possibly offer me?" I asked, tilting my head. My left foot was falling asleep.

I had a feeling I would be playing a guessing game, which was confirmed when he exclaimed "Guess!"

"No thank you," I said, standing up and flexing my leg. The tingling sensation in my heel worsened. Turning back on the demon was an easy, simple thing for me to do. There was no ethereal pull or the faintest longing to stay by his side, or even heal him for that matter.

I had yet to walk three feet from him when I heard him say, "How cruel, Mizu-chan! Are you just going to leave me here to die?"

"Yes" was my immediate answer, and I continued to put distance between us.

"Oh, fine!" I could almost hear Izaya's pout n his light voice. "I'll tell you, but first you have to heal me."

I did not stop. "What if I'm not interested in what you have to offer? You might just be lying to get me to heal you, then you may try to kill me." I paused and finally stood still, keeping my back to him. "I can tell you despise me and would love to see me dead."

"It's not you I specifically hate," I heard him slowly standing up, his boots scuffing against the concrete. "The only ones I love are my precious humans." His voice wasn't even labored, but his pain was like a pulse in his aura and I felt it. I felt his pain and his narcissism and his excitement.

While I was trying to push away the intangible pain and emotions, attempting to wrap my head around his words, Izaya closed in on me. He put his hands on my shoulders and massaged them thoroughly. "Can you feel them?"

His hands were what I was feeling right then. "Feel what?" Calm and composed as always.

"My emotions," he said, chuckling softly. "And my pain, I imagine."

"I can feel them," I answered.

"That is what I have to offer you," he murmured in my ear.

A single "oh" was all I said. By absorbing a person's aura, I could also feel their emotions. But those emotions still weren't mine, so Izaya couldn't help me.

"I don't know what you mean," I admitted.

"Just heal me. If you do, I'll show you how to feel your _own_ emotions." His arms slipped around my waist and he rested his hands on my hips. He pressed his cold chest closer to my back and I could feel his breath tickling my ear when he leaned closer to whisper, "I can show you love."

'I'm going to assume you want me to worry about the details later," I said, not at all affected by our bodies touching.

"Am I really that predictable?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Honestly?"

"Of course. But go easy on me," he said, laughing.

"No, actually I've never met anyone like you." I sighed loudly, moving away from him and turning to face him directly. He was wearing a smug smile which I would never become accustomed to. "Sit so that I may properly evaluate your injuries."

"Yes, ma'am." Izaya slowly lowered himself onto the ground, resting on an iron rail. I knelt beside him, eyeing his most severe injuries. None of them were life threatening due to the rate in which he was healing. I could already tell that he did not require my assistance. He was bleeding in a few places, many slash marks, and upon closer inspection I noticed blood beneath his sharp, pointed nails. His blood. I leaned forward and tenderly pressed my fingers over his chest, picking up signals from his nerves to monitor the damage.

Everything screamed self inflicted.

"Your wounds aren't particularly fatal," I mused, shifting my gaze to his face, trying to read him. He was watching me very closely. "Blood loss is a mere five percent... Right arm is broken in three places. Fractured ribs..."

"I know whats wrong with me, I'm just waiting for you to fix it," Izaya said, smiling playfully.

"What if I said I could not?" I questioned.

"You'd be lying."

"Correct." I closed my eyes and leaned forward s that our faces were only half an inch apart. "Part your lips," I ordered, feeling the Breath of Life that filled my lungs.

"Ah, the Breath of Life? Such a gift is rare. Only one angel at a time can possess it." So he reads his books, does he? "It can even heal the most life threatening injuries." I felt his breath cool and sweet as it passed over my lips and into my lungs when I inhaled. "I heard that it can literally breathe life into the dead."

"As far as I can tell, that is merely a myth." I felt no need to further this conversation, so I left it at that.

"Mizuki..." Izaya murmured, when I exhaled and sent the blue mist that was the Breath of Life into his mouth. It was the last time during my existence as a pure angel that he spoke my real name.

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

I was created into Light. For some time, I bathed in Light, I lived in it and stood in it, but not once did I absorb it. The Light only touched me, it didn't reach inside and claim the nothingness that was all I knew. The Light tried all it could, but it was not able pierce through the thick wall around my heart.

But Darkness did. So I embraced it together with Izaya, because I was finally whole, and for the first time during my existence I felt _alive._

My memories. They flooded into me as though the gates to a dam were lifted. 18 years of memories.

Everything was a lie. There was no scientist foster father. There was no adoption, no abuse or neglect, or a pair of parents who abandoned me. My 'past' prior to age fifteen before I moved to Ikebukuro was just a scenario that was somehow injected into my brain without my knowledge.

The last moment I experienced in my long lost memories was Izaya's death.

"She's still unconscious." Voices. They somehow managed to enter the emptiness around me. There wasn't even darkness hear. There was just nothing but voices.

"Good. How did the tests come up?" It was Izaya's voice. '_Izaya...' _

"Positive." Positive for what?

_"Wonderful," _Izaya said approvingly. I felt something cold press against my cheek. "When will she awaken?"

"She should be able to hear us, but she isn't fully conscious yes. I'm unsure when," the other voice answered him.

"Mizuki. Wake up." Now something cold pressed against my lips and my eyes fluttered open in response.

Eyes the color of fully bloomed cherry blossoms stared back at me. This wasn't Izaya. So this was Psyche. This was the man who created me using both angel and human DNA. He too was a hybrid, but unlike me, Psyche was _born. _I was engineered. A demon can reproduce with a human but an angel cannot. That is why I was the only angel hybrid to have ever existed.

"Where is Izaya?" I asked. I did not feel any concern for the demon whose whereabouts were unknown to me. Where was my love for him?

"Does it even matter anymore?" the man chuckled as though observing the antics of a child. He was right. It didn't matter. "Come. There is much to talk about." It was only then after I looked past Psyche's perfect face that I took in my surroundings. I was completely naked and laying on a metal table in a room with monitors and high tech equipment and pure white walls. It was cold. Everything was cold. There was another person with us who I did not recognize wearing a lab coat that was the same color as the walls, ceiling, and floor. He had a clipboard.

Despite the fact that I was nude, I did not feel exposed. I didn't care that they saw me naked. I didn't care that it was cold or that I was most likely being held prisoner in a secluded and heavily guarded building. Nothing mattered. And I knew why.

Psyche lifted me off of the table and stood me down on the floor, which was also cold. I felt silk cover my skin and Psyche knelt down to put slippers on my feet. The silk was a robe and it was the color of blood. He started to lead me out of the room and into the strange hallway. It looked like the setting of a future-esque movie, where everything was white and brightly lit.

"Our souls have been severed," I said in a beautiful and melancholy voice. It was the same voice that narrated my hallucinations, but it lacked the emotions that the other one had.

"Not severed. You were created without a soul. Izaya was born without one as well, but you gave him one, which the two of you shared the past three years. When Izaya was killed, he took that single soul completely," Psyche corrected me, but his tone was sweet and gentle. "Don't worry. We'll get it back, and you'll be complete again. We'll finally be able to perfect you."

Izaya was dead. And in a way, so was I.

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

I was created on the thirteenth of May in 1994. The rate in which I matured was so rapid that it was painful; I aged fifteen years in several months before I finally stopped.

Three months after my date of "birth," I was dropped off at the Gates of Heaven and left there for an angel to retrieve me. I appeared to be six years old at the time, mature enough to be given directions and to follow them. My creator, Psyche, whose face I was never allowed to see, had instructed me to hide my true origins and motives and to claim that I had a case of amnesia so that those belonging to the Light would not suspect anything. I did not have a single trace of Darkness in my body because I was part angel, not demon.

My mission was to open the Gates when the time was right and allow entrance for the demons who created me.

Of course, they realized I was a hybrid, and I was gifted with the Breath of Life due to my potential.

I'm the fiance that Shizuo is heartbroken over. The fiance that Izaya stole from him. Shizuo and I are in an arranged marriage, one that was set up by his parents and one of the commanding Gods. When Shizuo decided to become part of the Guard, he chose me to protect, thus becoming my Guardian Angel. Normally, an angel cannot Guard another angel, but because I had human blood within me, I was an exception.

Even while my body was racked with pain due to the aging process, I studied everything regarding the art of healing and abandoned my mission, devoting my existence to the art of giving life because I myself could not feel the joys of it.

By the time my body matured to that of a ten year old (in other words, five months), I was able to resurrect things that did not have souls like animals and plants by breathing a blue mist that my lungs created over them. However, I did not possess the power to retrieve souls from the Otherworld, and no matter how hard I tried I could not bring back humans from the dead.

Then, as soon as I turned fifteen and stopped maturing, I met Izaya on my first trip to the Land of the Living since I was given my mission, and I found a cure for my apathy. Izaya showed me how I could feel my own emotions. For two years we practiced merging our auras together to do so, and it wasn't long before we were able to achieve this feat through skin contact, like our hands touching. We would meet each other once a month to practice, and after a while, Izaya found a way to make me keep the bond between us so that I didn't have to rely on physical contact to escape the emptiness.

Shizuo was the only one who knew what was going on between me and Izaya. He didn't agree with it, but told me that he'd sacrifice anything for me to feel true happiness. He was loyal and never told the other angels or Gods what was going on.

We began to inject his own blood inside of my body so that I could walk around with our auras merged. Due to the fact that I was a healer, my own blood responded to the Darkness in his own by destroying it which was convenient because those around me didn't know I was tainting myself with demon blood by my own free will, which is a sin.

However, the blood would be completely destroyed within three weeks, along with Izaya's aura, so I would go a full week without emotions. I found myself becoming addicted to his blood, which resulted in a hunger that would go unsated for a dangerous amount of time...

And soon, despite our differences, Izaya and I began to fall in love.

"It's impossible for me to love a single human more than the rest," he had once told me. "Still, humans are the only ones that I love, and that's all I need. I hate both of our kinds. Except myself, of course!" So, for a while, Izaya did hate me.

When he began to grow feelings for me, he justified them by repeating the exact words he said before, but he added the ones that I had been waiting for for years. "It's impossible for me to love a single human more than the rest. I may hate angels and demons, but you aren't completely either one. That's why I am able to love you more than anything else, Mizu-chan. Because you're the thing I've been searching for my entire life. _Something different."_

Over the years, I began to feel blood lust. My thirst or hunger for blood was only Izaya's, and every so often when I went for another injection, I would attack him. I didn't just want injections anymore. I wanted to _drink _it.

One day I went too far. He wasn't even in the middle of giving me an injection when I attacked him and tore out his throat. I ended up ripping his heart out of his chest and drinking the blood that steadily dripped from it. I killed the man I loved.

After regaining my senses, I realized that Izaya didn't even fight back. I knew that he was afraid of death but he _let _me kill him.

So, I did what any other healer with my gift would have done. I gave him the Breath of Life through a kiss and resurrected him. Izaya didn't originally have a soul because he was a demon, so I was able to bring him back to life. There was an added bonus to reviving my love; the act itself gave him a soul.

When he awoke, Izaya's last words to me before I lost consciousness were, "I'll come back for you."

And then my angel blood went dormant and I became a human. I believe that it was Izaya who planted memories that weren't really mine into my head.

Izaya's blood was still in my body, so when he got a soul, we shared it, unbeknownst to me. And unlike his aura, it didn't fade away because I didn't get any blood injections. I still lost my emotions for some reason, but I still kept his soul.

That was why, when Izaya appeared to me after three long years, I initially thought I hated him. He said he'd come back for me but it took him so long. And that was why, despite not remembering anything, I thought that it was love at first sight. _Because even when I didn't remember who he was, I still loved him._

But now Izaya _does _have a soul. I can't bring him back from the dead this time. But the worst part was that I couldn't even mourn over him.

I just didn't care.

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**[AN] **Yeah, I'm kind of unsure how this chapter came out... You see, my writing flows much more smoothly if I've written it on **paper** before typing it. For most of this chapter except for the first section, I typed it all up without writing it, so it's not as good in my opinion. :/ Sorry...


	13. When My Eyes Open

**[AN] **From this chapter forward, I will be writing in present-tense. This is because the previous chapters were Mizuki recounting the previous months while she was in comatose. I hope this makes sense... anyways, I fashioned her armor from Erza Scarlet's Heaven Wheel Armor, so the design is not mine.

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**Chapter 13: When My Eyes Open**

Voices. I hear voices all of a sudden. When did everything become so black? I can't remember the last thing I was doing before I was thrusted into this black world. I can't remember anything at all.

What is my name? Is everything supposed to be this dark? Where am I? I can't see anything. I can't even feel my own body. But I can hear, so I concentrate on the voices again. The voices are muffled, as though I'm underwater. The word cannot be distinguished individually among the murmurs, and trying to concentrate on deciphering them is giving me a headache, so I stop.

Beeping. The beeping of machinery, that much I can tell. I hear the sound with startling clarity, and it hurts my sensitive ears. Three consecutive beeps at half second intervals.

The sound of something being sucked up by a vacuum. I can't breathe. I have found my body once again, as though my soul leaped back inside of it. I'm submerged in something thicker than water. Is it blood? It's warm like blood. I can't tell. Everything is still black. I can't move.

Drowning. I'm going to drown. The vacuum is going to suck up my soul, I can feel it as it tried to escape my chest.

Right when I think everything is over, _I'm_ over, my head resurfaces and my breath returns, but I can only inhale through my nose. My mouth won't open. I'm still paralyzed.

The vacuum stops. Half a second of silence before I hear a 'woosh,' as if an air tight door is being opened. It's cold all of a sudden. My teeth chatter. It's then that I realize I have regained mobility.

That wasn't the sensation of my soul being torn from my body just moments before. It was merely an accelerated heartbeat triggered by adrenaline which is now coursing through my veins. I don't have a soul.

I tear out the obnoxious electrodes on my scalp, which take a few strands of hair with them in their struggle. At least my head isn't shaved bald. There are a few more on my chest, which I'm also ripping off without hesitation. Now, I feel an IV in my forearm, and when I take that out, I expect there's some blood leaking from the wound. Surely enough, I can feel it as it trickles down my skin.

My senses are extraordinarily heightened, and I don't dare to open my eyes. The light will be blinding. My body is still very sensitive from being finally exposed to the outside world once again.

I can feel their calculating eyes on my. I'm breathing out of my mouth out of fear that the scents of the lab will hurt my nose. Surprisingly, I can smell with my tongue, almost like a serpent. That's new.

I can smell my own blood. It smells wrong. Unnatural.

"Test her for amnesia," a voice barks, breaking the silence. I'm a bit surprised not to hear Psyche. The demon would have been the first to speak, so I know he's not here. It's very uncharacteristic of him to miss something such as this.

"State your identification number and the last mission you were assigned," a nervous but firm man orders me.

"Identification number 709-666-B470700-MIZUSHI. Previous mission; classified. Status; aborted." My voice is monotone and steady, but a little weak. I haven't spoken for a while, it seems.

"Tch," the cocky one sneers, muttering under his breath. "Classified my dick."

"Dim the lights," I request, still kneeling inside of the cylindrical tube that has contained me for an unidentified amount of time.

"Excuse me?" the man scoffs in disbelief. I do not repeat myself. Eventually, the bright lights dim, but only fractionally. Rather than order the scientists to make the room darker, I quick snap my eyes open. This seems to shock them, and a few of them jump back in fear. I don't recall ever looking that intimidating. My eyes sting and my vision is full of black and white blotches.

I flex my muscles. My body is sore and weak, but I'm fairly certain that I'll be able to stand. I step down from the glass tube and transition onto the cold floor. Not even bothering to hide the fact that I can barely stand, I reach out for something to grab onto, putting my hand on the control box, ultimately switching a few things on and off. The old, cocky man's yelling at me now, and I watch a few scientists rush over to fix the mess I made with droopy eyes as I'm pulled into another room for further testing.

So, it turns out I was put into a coma for four months and had undergone extreme modification and alteration. Psyche even wanted my wings to be black, so of course, now my feathers are a dark onyx with a few blue accents. I think it's unnecessary. I miss their pure white color.

"Where's my halo?" I ask the woman who is beginning to take out the IVs in my arm after my latest string of tests. My bare skin is feeling numb from being exposed to the cold, metal table. Am I not allowed the privilege of clothes here?

"Your halo is with Master." I vaguely wonder if Psyche is manipulating their minds to turn them into submissive drones.

"Where is Psyche?" I inquire, sliding of the table. Everything in this god forsaken place is cold.

"Master is busy with preparations for your departure." Curiosity: 0. I was already told that I will be sent into Hell to retrieve Izaya's soul. I'm completely unprepared.

"Hm," I grunt, snatching the bitch's cliche lab coat right off her scrawny shoulders and draping it over me on my way out. She doesn't seem to mind.

It would be easy to get lost in this place, but luckily I have my sense of smell to guide me. All I have to do is look for a place with little to no human scent and stay there. I keep my large wings wrapped around my body in an attempt to stay warm, but my feet are still freezing. It feels like I'm walking on ice, the crystalline surface of a frozen lake in the dead of winter.

Turns out, there's a lot of unused space in this place, but no matter where I go, everything is obnoxiously bright.

"There you are." It's Psyche's sweet, silky voice and he's right behind me. Either the man is a teleporter, a ninja, or just really, really quiet. I should have been able to hear him approach before he was even fifty feet away.

I come to a halt. "Where's my halo?" I before I know it, the azure ring is dangling in front of my face from his fingers. I gingerly take it from him and set it into place above my head, where it begins to suspend in midair and slowly rotate. Unlike my old fellow angels, I can never get it to stay perfectly placed above my head; it's always lopsided.

"You should be careful not to lose it, Mizuki," Psyche suggests, taking me by my shoulders to turn me so that I face him. "It won't just magically reappear if you want it to."

"Yeah, yeah, because I don't have a soul," I grumble, staring at his chest rather than meeting his gaze.

"Exactly," he says, then tears his gaze from my face to the clothing I'm wearing. He takes my hand in his, leading me through the many hallways. "Come. We'll get you changed into more appropriate attire before we leave."

I'm not paying attention to the decor of Psyche's living space very much, but I do notice how lavishly decorated it was and that it is much dimmer than the rest of the building, which I'm grateful for. Psyche leaves me with a handful of his servants to help me change into a heavy set of armor. Luckily, after all the modification I have undergone, I'm unhindered by it's weight. It's rather easy to move around in, but a little bit revealing. The servants are all female, and keep referring to me as "Mistress" or "my lady."

The metal itself is completely silver, with a small breastplate that shows off significant amount of cleavage. The plates look like long flower petals, and there's a large flower in the center with a sapphire in the center. The first thing I notice about this armor is that it really won't protect my abdomen, which defeats its purpose. The gauntlets are pretty much the same, and there are slits in the back that I can fit my wings through.

"Lovely," Psyche approves when he comes back into the room, and the servants bow and quickly scurry out the door to leave us alone. He walks over to me and traces his thumb over my cheekbone, his eyes staring deeply into my own. "I don't suppose you'll need a weapon?"

"No," I answer. "My halo can take the form of many different types of weapons." Not like I've ever used them before. I am a healer; it goes against everything I am to slay another being, demon or otherwise. I've never practiced swordsmanship either, so I doubt I'll be able to last five minutes past the Gates. Psych seems to have confidence in my abilities, so I guess I'll just close my eyes and take a leap into the unknown.

"Good. I suggest a katana; they're easy to maneuver." I'll take his word for it.


	14. The Guardian

**[AN] **Hello there, my faithful readers! I feel like there was something important I had to tell you... Oh, well! I'll remember it sooner or later (if it's important, that is).

* * *

**Chapter 14: The Guardian**

It is unthinkable for a Guardian to kill their Host, the one he or she has vowed to protect. There are almost no exceptions to this law -the most fundamental of all laws-, and the penalty for committing such a heinous act is the shattering of one's soul, a fate worse than death.

Heiwajima Shizuo understands this better than anyone else.

His hands are balled up into fists with enough force to pulverize a hunk of metal, and it takes every ounce of will power possible for a monster with his quick temper not to grab the officials in front of him by their heads and squeeze. He focuses on the copper taste in his mouth that resulted from biting down hard on his tongue to keep himself from screaming at these bastards. How dare they ask -no,_demand_- the blonde Guardian murder the one he formed the Contract with? And to top it off, he waited three god damned months in this shit hole for this trial. Three months that could have been spent on finding Mizuki.

"To preserve Shimizu-san's honor, it is necessary for you to terminate her because of your role as her Guardian," one of the Gods that make up the group of judges says. Shizuo scoffs in disbelief and rolls his coffee colored eyes.

"Don't sugar coat it, asshole. It would be worse than murder. It's a Guardian's _job_ to protect the Host he made a Contract with! Even from himself!" the man bellows, slamming his fists down on the marble stand, much to the surprise of the officials. Because of the spells casted on the material, they do not break beneath his hands. To encounter a tangible force that Shizuo could not destroy was a new experience for him.

"A Guardian is supposed to protect a _human_ with a _soul_, Heiwajima-san, not a half breed. And when addressing your Gods, you must learn to speak with respect!" The God's voice is thick with power and authority which any normal being would be crushed beneath. But Shizuo is no ordinary being, and he stands tall with the strength of his Contract with Mizuki acting as his crutch. Besides; the judge before him is just another nameless God that Shizuo couldn't care less about.

"You people are all the same," Shizuo grumbles. "What about the day Mizuki and me made that fucking Contract, huh? It was verified because she's part human!"

"That Contract is invalid because it was not performed in the proper way with the Host. Besides, that was before we found out who she is. Shimizu-san can cause a war if we don't stop her. She's an abomination. She shouldn't exist," an older, much wiser Goddess retorts.

"I will protect her. And if you get in my way, I will crush you."

A God shakes his noble head, disappointed. "I was hoping you'd see reason-"

"Fuck off," Shizuo interrupts.

"However," he continues, ignoring him, "we are now left with no choice but to banish you for an eternity from Heaven. To prevent you from going into hell and assisting Shimizu-san, we will not sentence you to Fall."

"Whatever. My Heaven is where ever Mizuki is." And with these famous last words, Shizuo disappears into a burst of light, never to be seen past the Silver Gates ever again.

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

How can you love someone who has nothing to love? If you have an answer, tell Shizuo. He'd love to hear it.

Maybe -for him, at least- it's got something to with being that someone's Guardian. He asked other Guardians how they felt about their humans, but he received no straightforward answers. Most of them had never even met the ones they formed the Contract with before. Their job doesn't require them to physically protect their humans. All they have to do is safeguard the souls and prevent them from being stolen or corrupted.

But Mizuki does not have a soul. So Shizuo's responsibility is to protect her body.

Maybe he cares about her simply because they're engaged. If the man was going to be honest, he thought the arrangement was a bit weird. He didn't even know Mizuki when they were suddenly forced into marriage, nor does he know for certain that what he feels for the strange girl is love or just a sense of protectiveness over her.

The blonde remembers her when she was full of colorful emotions, before they made their Contract. He tries to forget how she got them and who gave them to her, and focuses on Mizuki herself. She was selfish at the beginning, reveling in the way emotions made her feel alive for the first time. She experimented with them by helping people then causing harm to them, by purposely putting herself in embarrassing situations or being reckless. Most thought that Mizuki had gone crazy, that there was something wrong with being a half breed. But Shizuo knew she was just excited.

After a few months, she began to settle down among the fray of emotions. She chose compassion over anger, sadness, and even her own happiness. She was often treated like an outsider, but she still cared deeply for others, including complete strangers, despite her harsh exterior.

_"I don't think you're a monster," Mizuki said, approaching Shizuo who was in the middle of smoking a cigarette to steady his nerves. He chose a nice spot in one of the courtyard gardens. If he was caught, he'd definitely be punished._

_"Yeah, well that asshole I just threw through a wall sure does," the young angel grumbled, running his hand through his thick, brown hair. He was beginning to believe everything people were saying about him._

_"You just need to learn control. It must take a lot, trying to reign in all that strength." Mizuki shrugged, leaning against the stone wall beside him, her head tilted towards the sky. They were in Heaven, so it was full of bright, colorful stars and planets too close for her comfort. "And with great power comes great responsibility," the raven haired girl quoted with a small smile._

_"People think you're a monster, too," Shizuo said, casting a sideways glance on her. He was waiting for her to get offended like most people would have been._

_Instead, the strange girl smiled like it was all one big joke. "Just because I don't have a soul doesn't mean I'm a monster. And just because you can't control your strength doesn't mean you're one, either."_

_Shizuo narrowed his eyes and looked away, slightly flustered. "Sure," he muttered under his breath._

_"Did I embarrass my fiance?" Mizuki asked, widening her eyes innocently._

_"No. You just pissed me off."_

_Mizuki grinned and looked back towards the dangerously colorful night sky. "You're a horrible liar."_

"Fuck..." Shizuo growls, his fingers curling around the post of a red stop sign. He was like a bull, seeing red everywhere, and he screams at the top of his lungs, tearing the sign out of the pavement as easily as one plucks grass from the ground. "I'll kill every last one of those bastards!" he shouts, throwing it like a lance towards the dark, empty sky. People stop and stare. They always stare. Even when he isn't on a full out rampage, it's like they're waiting for him to explode.

And he has. Mizuki was the bomb, and his love for her was the spark that lit it and set it off.

"No one, not even that flea, will take her from me," he hisses, and the red sign lands in front of him with a loud clang that shakes the surrounding atmosphere.

They run. They scream and they run. All the blonde is doing is standing there, his body slightly hunched over as though he's carrying a heavy burden. And he is. But it's not a heavy bag full of belongings. It's a heavy heart filled with guilt and sadness.

"I've failed you..."

_Azure eyes stared back at him. Honest eyes. Half lidded, hopeful eyes. Shizuo wondered if his own reflected what he was feeling. Could those eyes see right through him? All six feet of him?_

_Yes. Yes they could._

_"Let's do this." The pair of azure eyes widened fractionally to express sincerity. There was something about that voice, too, that calmed him. It was a beautiful singing voice, he could tell. Alto. Shizuo's was a smooth bass._

_"Whatever," Shizuo grumbled, although to be quite frank he was a bit flustered._

_The pair of eyes got closer and closer with each step. It wasn't until they were a foot apart that Shizuo ripped his gaze from them and focused on the bigger picture. Mizuki herself._

_"You have to spread your wings, Shizuo," Mizuki murmured, trying to coax him into unfurling his brown and white speckled membranes._

_"It's been a while since I even summoned them," he said, slightly ashamed of their color. Angels with wings that were anything but pure white were outcasts. They were considered impure. He always walked around without them because the others' stares would really piss him off, and he couldn't afford messing up his parole._

_"You don't need to be ashamed," she reassured him, waiting patiently._

_Shizuo finally looked away from her and towards the ground, slowly opening his wings to their full span. It took a few moments; he was sore from not using them in a while._

_"Palms up!" she ordered, raising her own hands so that their backs were facing her. He mirrored the action, tenderly pressing his palms against hers. He breathed in deeply, and stared at her once more. She smiled with satisfaction, then nodded._

_"Since I don't have a soul and all, we're just going to have to do our own version of the Contract!" she declared, and smirked widely. "Let's see those assholes try to mess with you when you're a Guardian."_

_"I might get more shit from this because you're soulless," he muttered. Shizuo knew saying this was a bit cruel, and for a moment he was worried that Mizuki would be angry with him for saying such a thing._

_Instead, she just rolled her eyes at him. "Get over it. Let's get this started."_

_Shizuo grunted, guy code for "okay," and sifted through his brain for something to say. "I promise I'll try to protect you and be the best Guardian I can be."_

_She narrowed her eyes at him, but it was obvious she wasn't angry. "No. You _will _protect me, and you _will _be the best Guardian ever to have existed."_

_Shizuo glared at her, countering her harsh demands with, "Oh yeah? And what the hell makes you think I'll always win? Isn't trying enough?!"_

_Mizuki intertwined her fingers with his, her grip firm. "As long as I'm alive, I'll always be there for you, so you have to protect me. And if you're the best Guardian ever, people will know that they can't mess with you anymore!"_

_Shizuo's eyes widened in shock, but then he nodded once and let go of her hands, only to pull her into an embrace. "I promise to always protect you, and to be the best Guardian ever so that I can kick anyone's ass that fucks with either of us."_

_"That's more like it."_

_It wasn't much in the eyes of their peers, but Shizuo and Mizuki's simplistic version of the Contract gave both of them the strength they needed to reach the stars beyond._

Shizuo sensed it. Mizuki's presence. It was far away, but he was confident that his wings could carry him there.


	15. Azure, Crimson, and Gold Collide

**[AN] **Wow! I come back and I have quite a few new followers now. Thanks, guys! Oh, and on another note... Would some lemons be something you guys would look forward to? *cough* I've never written any before, and so I don't know if I should. Of course, I'd have to change the rating to M in the event that I _do _decide to write some, but... mew. *turns into a cat and flees*

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**Chapter 15: Azure, Crimson, and Gold Collide**

Such a beautiful, peaceful meadow, tainted by blood and darkness. And once again, evil will stake its claim here. The door that leads to every nightmare, every grown man and woman's fears, will open in this place.

I've tried to avoid the truth ever since I awoke from my nap. I think I've done rather well up until now. I guess, like everything else to have ever happened to me, this is inevitable. I cannot evade my memories any longer, no matter how much I want to.

This is the place where I murdered the one I loved three years ago.

Psyche's men lead me past the trees that surround the meadow. Why of all places did he choose this location to perform the ritual? Does he wish to torture me? It won't work. Recollection does not rouse anything within me. There is nothing to be roused anyways, no sleeping monster waiting for a wary traveler to wander too far into its domain; there is only me, my shell, which amounts to nothing.

Oh, the melancholy. I don't remember ever having such pessimistic thoughts.

My skin is soon in the path of the moonlight after I have left the shelter the trees provided me. Most is reflected off of my heavy, extravagant armor. In the center of the meadow is a group of people dressed in cliche black robes that conceal the entirety of their bodies, unlike the ones beside me who are dressed in red. I wonder how much of this is really necessary.

Psyche's standing in the center of the circle, smirking at me. He's watching me very closely as though he's prepared for me to make a run for it. So very unlike his twin. He lacks intuition and a keen sense of human behavior, a testament to his inferiority. Why would I run with no place to go?

Me and my entourage reach the rest of them after a few moments. The fuchsia eyed demon takes my hands in his and smiles, his gaze sweeping across the crowd.

"Welcome! Mizuki an I are glad you can make it to the opening of the Gates of Hell. Time is against us, for it is undetermined when the Gods plan on sentencing Mizuki to Fall. Hopefully, her human blood will prevent this, but we can't afford to make any mistakes." Psyche suddenly looks back at me and lowers his voice slightly. "So, you'll have to make this mission quick. If you Fall, you won't be able to retrieve Izaya's soul." He lets go of my hands and leads me into the center of the ring of demons.

"Dagger," Psyche calls out, and a woman in red approaches us, carrying a pillow that a curved knife rests on. Psyche gingerly takes the blade and the woman retreats.

"Hold out your hand," he says to me. I obey, and he quickly and deftly draws the knife over the meaty part of my palm, just beneath my thumb. The cut is deep, and the thick stench of my hybrid blood fills the meadow. "Make a fist," he says to me. Again, I obey, and he commands me to use my blood to draw a pentagram in the grass with the bottom point facing south and the top two pointing northwest and northeast respectively. I squeeze me hand tighter and tilt it to the side so that blood steadily trickles out and begin to draw the star, standing in the middle of it like Psyche instructed.

When I finish, those around me begin chanting. It's getting annoying so I drown them out, but I can clearly distinguish the language as Latin. During the first few months of my existence, scientists inserted a shit ton of information into me like I was some kind of computer, which pretty much explains my national average.

The sudden green light catches my attention. The pentagram is now outlined in green and blue flames. It's cold, unlike most fire. I glance over at Psyche for another order, but his eyes are closed and his head is tilted down, making it look like he's deep in prayer. I continue looking at him, patiently waiting, but something happens that sends chills down my spine.

It's Shizuo. He's come for me.

I sense his presence before anyone else because of our bond. Psyche's phone begins to vibrate in his pocket, and he takes it out to answer the call.

"Orihara," he says automatically, and I tilt my head to an eighty five degree angle. Are he and his double actually related? Now that I think about it, I don't even know what their relationship is.

"Alright. Shoot him down." He quickly hangs up, smiling at me directly before returning to his prayers.

The chanting gets louder, and I close my eyes, concentrating on the thought of Shizuo. I feel no remorse or anxiety towards his imminent death. There's something wrong with me.

The trees start to tremble, the birds that reside in them take flight. Psyche turns his head in their direction, growling fiercely under his breath. The others continue chanting despite the oncoming threat, leaving Psyche and I as the only ones who are distracted.

The movements are getting closer. I can feel the strong sense of foreboding that hangs over the meadow as we- as they- await their deaths. Some trees topple over, and the sound of wood splitting accompanies the voices of those around me. Many here will die. Possibly everyone. Those wearing red, seven in total, finally shift their attention to the trees and leave the circle, taking to the perimeter. Some brandish weapons. Others do not. But I know that their feeble attempts will all be in vain. No one can stop Shizuo when he goes all out.

I hear his screams before I see his face. It's ironic, because Shizuo is supposed to be an angel yet he sounds like a vengeful demon.

He bursts through the last row of trees like a wrecking ball, and the strong scent of his blood wafts towards me. His wings are bleeding, practically torn apart with holes inflicted by countless bullets. My instincts cause me to fidget uncomfortably upon seeing him wounded, and I fight the irrational urge to jump forward to heal him.

Because of my newly heightened vision, I can distinctly make out every feature, from his unnatural blonde hair with subtle brown roots, his bar tending outfit and the brown specks on his tattered wings. Especially the gold irises behind his blue tinted glasses.

Chaos soon ensues. He brutally attacks the red hooded figures who defend the circle as best as they can. One has an A K 47. Another can manipulate fire. The gun is rendered useless before the figure can even fire it when Shizuo bends the barrel then picks him up and throws the guy into oblivion.

Fire engulfs the area, but this time its orange and red. Psyche's attention is completely fixated on me, and somehow the circle still doesn't break.

"Mizuki!" my Guardian shouts just as the blue flames jump higher and consume me. There's no heat, only a strong cold which is enough for me to feel like I'm being burned. Despite this, I don't try to escape the blaze, standing stoically as I patiently wait for some sort of signal. The fire grows to the point where I can't see anything through it, nor can I hear or sense the battle waging around me.

Then, a pulse of energy wipes out the fire completely, leaving the dead grass as the only evidence of it existence. Within this blue and green energy wave, a pair of large wooden doors appear before me. Then, the eerie light is gone, and the area is silent. I don't even hear Shizuo, who would normally be swearing and kicking some guy's ass.

What am I supposed to do with this door? There aren't any door knobs or handles to open it, so I look towards Psyche for an answer. I don't get any.

I can hear the slow, creaking sound of the door being opened. I try to peer inside the gradually opening crack, but so far everything's black.

Crimson eyes are shining at me in the darkness, a single, lurid pair of cold eyes the color of blood that are close enough for me to see the reflection of my own azure eyes in them. I know these eyes very well.

They are Izaya's, and he has come to avenge his death.

The eyes move closer until his entire body emerges from the blackness. I want to reach out and touch him to confirm that he's really there, and that this isn't just some hallucination. He beats me to it, reaching his hand out to touch me cheek with a sly smile on his scintillating face.

Upon this touch, I feel his emotions surge into me. Happiness, malevolence, satisfaction, anticipation... and adoration? They are present for only a brief moment before being snuffed by my own.

"I told you I'd come back for you," he says softly, making my dormant heart flutter. I notice that his other hand is behind his back. He's hiding something from me.

"What's that?" I ask, not bothering with introductions. His smirk grows, making me suspicious.

He slowly and deliberately brings his hand forward, but before I can see what it is, he angles my head towards him with his other hand on my chin.

"How could someone do something so cruel, Mizu-chan?" He finally shows me what his welcoming gift is, and I stare at it with flooding azure eyes. "Rip out a man's heart without even bothering to take care of it afterwards?"

Any sane person would be horrified upon seeing someone holding a heart in his hand. I, however, am clearly _not _sane. Besides; how could I abhor the thing that sustains the life of the one I love most?

"I'll keep it safe from now on," I murmur, reaching up to take it from him. It's warm to the touch and beating rhythmically, and there is not a single drop of blood on it.

"Then I'll protect yous," he replies, and I notice him looking for me shoulder with a smile.

The calm before the storm doesn't last very long. "And here I thought you were dead." The voice is identical to Izaya's yet undeniably very different. "We just so happened to be throwing a party in your honor."

"Yet you didn't think to invite m-" Izaya begins to say until Shizuo's voice, amplified by his anger, drowns him out.

"Shut the _fuck_ up!" he yells, then grabs the last red hooded figure by the head with both of his powerful hands. He ends the person's life with a sharp twist to the left in a motion so abrupt that even I have difficult time catching it. Never before have I seen Shizuo actually end a person's life, and the fact that he has the ability to deliberately kill someone stuns me. "I came here for one reason, and one reason only, and that's Mizuki. Not some fucking reunion between two psychopaths who'd be better off dead."

"Shizuo," I whisper, guilt weighing heavily on my conscience. Despite his efforts, Shizuo will never hold the same place in my heart as Izaya does. I hope he finds someone who can love him unconditionally and without having to rely on someone else to feel emotions. I've failed him.

"Come on, Mizuki. I don't have all night," he huffs, but says his words halfheartedly. He must know who I'll choose in the end.

I open my mouth to say something I know will haunt me later when Izaya starts laughing.

"If I were you, Shizu-chan, I'd start walking away with my tail between my legs," Izaya says rather gleefully.

"Why you..." Shizuo hisses, lunging forward. He stops suddenly when Izaya pulls out his notorious flick blade and presses the blunt end to my throat. I quickly find myself with my back against his chest while Izaya wraps an arm around my upper body as if to restrain me.

"I also wouldn't do anything too rash," he suggests.

As soon as Shizuo's shocked expression surfaced, it disappears, and he narrows his gold eyes. "Oh, please, Izaya. Is that all you got? You must really be desperate if you think I'm going to believe you'd use Mizuki as a human shield." He cracks the knuckles on both of his hands and grins murderously. "Which means I'll be able to kick your ass twice as hard."

When I'm about to tell him to let me go, Izaya responds. "If it's to save myself, you know I'd do it." Something about the way he said that makes me believe him. I frown at how far Izaya would be willing to go for his own self preservation. This isn't love. What Izaya feels for me is borderline obsession. Then what could explain the emotions that permeate from him whenever I absorb his blood or aura? Could it all just be delusion? Is my love for him unrequited?

"You disgust me," mutters a frighteningly pissed off Shizuo.

"Yes, but I don't disgust _her,_" Izaya purrs, playfully licking my earlobe. I reach behind me and rip out a few strands of his onyx hair.

"Quit being an ass to him," I say, and add an elbow to his abdomen to my list of assaults. He hunches over a little, coughing and chuckling all at once.

"Seriously, Mizuki? Do you not understand that this flea really doesn't care about you?" He ends his tirade with a, "God, you're so fucking stupid."

Izaya sighs dramatically and begins slowly walking backwards to the open door and it's expanse of pure, ubiquitous darkness. "I'd love to stay and chat, I really would, but Mizu-chan and I should get going."

"You're not going anywhere!" Shizuo rushes towards us, sending black cloaked minions into the charcoal sky like dirt beneath his shoes. I look back to see the doors slowly closing.

"I'll see you soon, Shizu-chan." He aims his attention at Psyche now, who is staring at us with calm temperament. "And I owe you my gratitude, Psyche. You returned my lovely dove to me, safe and sound." He continues to ignore my struggles to break free from his vice-like grip.

"Izaya, let go," I demand a bit frantically. Now that I'm not a zombie anymore, I _really_ don't want to go to Hell. Eternal damnation sounds like a drag.

"Master..." one of the hooded men anxiously whisper to Psyche.

"Let them go," Psyche orders. "Izaya and I have the same goals in mind." He turns to leave without saying goodbye, and the others begin to follow him in an organized fashion as though nothing happened.

_'How rude,' _I think sarcastically.

Shizuo, however, is far more reluctant to permit Izaya to escape. By the time he reaches us, Izaya has already slipped us past the doors, leaving the smallest crack left between them.

"Damn it!" Shizuo tries to pry the doors open with his bare hands but his attempts go unnoticed. He pulls his hands out before the doors can crush them upon closing completely.

I can no longer see him, but I can still hear his voice and the heavy pounding of his fists against the impenetrable wood. Despite his efforts, I know he has accepted defeat. "Damn it!"

"Mizuki..." he whispers brokenly.

The Gates of Hell vanish, leaving Izaya and I in almost absolute nothingness with only the presence of each other.


	16. Those Without Hearts or Souls

**[AN] **Let's play Detective! x3 This chapter is pretty much tying together all of Mizuki's hallucinations. In other words, Izaya's 'death' is pretty much the explanation for the hallucinations she had while she was human. :] I hope this makes sense. Refer back to the previous chapters before Mizuki's memories returned to see what I'm talking about. Most of the hallucinations are in bold letters.

By the way... I want to write gift fics for people! So... How about my 40th reviewer gets a gift fic from me? :D How does that sound? We can discuss it through PMs and stuff!

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**Chapter 16: Those Without Hearts or Souls**

I've been told that Hell manifests itself as the place where the person died before a demon comes to usher the soul further in. I've never dwelt on this idea for more than a few moments for many reasons, the foremost being my apathy. I've also never died before. So what will appear before me?

I feel nothing all of a sudden. Not emotionally, but physically. Where is Izaya? I whip my head back and forth, yet I see no change in my vision. It's empty here. "Izaya?"

When Izaya left, he must have taken his heart with him. Or perhaps it is I who left. I look down at my hands to try to imagine it in my palm so that I may feel some comfort in such a bleak place, only to find _myself_ disappearing.

It's such a simple thing. No fire burning away my existence, no panic or despair. I don't scream. I'll be with Izaya very soon...

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

_Glowing flesh... bathed in blood and moonlight._

_His heart is in my hands. Beating. Steadily beating and bleeding._

_Crimson blood stains these lips. It, too, is his. And it is everywhere. It's on the grass, in my hair, on my pure white yukata. Flooding the wound in his chest where his heart should be. I feel like this is one of those puzzles that small children play. Where there are those blocks that you have to fit into the corresponding holes. But, like an infant too small to figure out which block fits into which hole, I sit here, dumbfounded._

_Why is Izaya bleeding? Why is there a heart - his heart- in my hands?_

_His dying breath, raspy and weak, whispers almost inaudibly, "I'll come back for you." He smiles one last time at me and leaves this world. Just like that. I can barely process what has just happened._

'Oh my god,'_ I think._

_"Oh my god," my mouth translates to the air around me._

_Shock is initial. Shock makes me numb, clouds the horrific truth that too soon must I face. Just a bit longer. All I ask for is a little more time to feel this numbness so that I may avoid the realization of what I've done._

_The glass that separates me from reality shatters into hundreds of thousands of pieces. Frantically, desperately, I rush to gather the shards as if I can put them back together. But it's too late._

_"Izaya!" I finally scream, taking his ashen face between my hands. His eyes are now closed, and I envy him for the peaceful state in which he is in. It's not fair. Why couldn't it have been me? Why is it that Izaya gets to cause me pain, while he gets an eternity of solace?_

_Those eyes behind closed lids will never reflect love for me again. _

_"Do not die on me!" I growl, removing one hand from his pale face, only to use it to slap him. "I will _not_ let you win!"_

_My anger turns to sadness, my sadness to despair, and from despair, I plummet downwards into a spiral of insanity._

_The trees begin to laugh at me as the wind blows through their branches. I hear their howls, their jeers, as they watch me in my pitiful state. They're mocking me! How dare they!_

_"Fine." I adjust out bodies so that his head is resting in my lap. His skin is cold. But it always is, even when he was alive. "Killing you may not be a sin. But this is." I press my blood stained lips to his, using my tongue to open his mouth. Kissing his corpse is not something I find repulsive. This corpse is still the corpse of the man I love. Even in death, my love won't disappear. It, if anything, is immortal._

_My attempts to save him may be futile, but I have to try. I won't let Izaya get away with leaving me._

_To strengthen my powers. I summon my wings, which burst forth into an explosion of bright, white light and feathers the color of freshly fallen snow. My back arches in response to this surge of power, yet I don't break our kiss. Not even for a single moment. _

_The Breath of Life exits my lungs and enters his mouth. This is usually the time when the blue mist is suppose to fade and the resurrection process fail. But in my arms, a miracle occurs. I'm still trying to figure out if it's a gift or a curse, though._

_Without being inhaled, the mist creeps down his throat and is absorbed into his body. Another explosion. I stare down at Izaya's body and am abruptly thrown backwards by something I don't see. I land about six meters away on the grass and look up in time to see ribbons of darkness strike forward like cobras and lift him into the air. White beams of light soon join them in a struggle over possession of his body._

_"Fuck no," I hiss, getting back on my feet. "I won't let you win, either!" No one will ever take Izaya away from me._

_I don't exactly remember when I chose this path. Perhaps my choice was preordained upon creation, or when someone got the idea to create a hybrid like me. Perhaps it was when I first met Izaya, or realized that I love him. It doesn't matter right now. Originally, the gods and those who engineered me only gave me two options; Light or Dark. 'Good' or 'evil.' Izaya's voice rings in my memories, clearer than ever before._ "Light. Darkness. You and I are above such idealistic views."

_Izaya has shown me that not everything is black and white._

_I really have no idea what the fuck I'm going to do about this, but I have no other alternatives at the moment. I quickly get onto my feet and rush forward, trying to grab at the thick tendrils of darkness and brush aside the light as if I can even touch them. All they do is sip through my fingers like water._

_"Stop!" I scream. _

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

_Where am I?_

_"Wakey wakey, Mizu-chan." _Izaya? _I open my eyes and surely enough, there he is, smiling down at me as usual. Like nothing happened. Normally, I'd try to convince myself that _those _events did not transpire, but I know that I won't be able to push back such a horrid memory. The guilt is too strong for me to fight against. _

_His eyes are the first things I notice. His cold, brown eyes. I've always preferred the cold, though. I hate the heat. So ironically (and moronically), I find comfort in their depths. _

_Izaya doesn't look like someone who's bitter towards the girl who succeeded in killing him. If anything, I'd say he seems pretty fucking happy. _

_The room we're in is dark. I'm laying on a bed, with Izaya beside me, and my clothes have been changed. I look down at my hands and there isn't even a single drop of blood on them. I guess I should feel a bit violated that Izaya has seen me naked. But I don't care. He's here, sitting by my side. That's all that matters._

_"I thought I killed you," I say bluntly, trying to hold back the rush of emotions flooding my heart and threatening to make my eyes to do the same. My fingers twitch, aching to touch him, but I suppress such impulses. I'm too embarrassed to display my feelings for him. I know Izaya loves me. But does he know that I reciprocate his feelings? And if he doesn't, but one day finds out, will he use my emotions for his own sick benefit? That sounds very like him. _

_"Yeah, you did. But you also brought me back to life." His light laughter tickles my ears. "And, here comes the bonus! I got a soul out of the bargain, too." _

_I roll my eyes at his joke. "Can you go five minutes without saying some stupid pick up line?" _

_"I'm completely serious," he says simply. Normally, I'd discredit him, but my intuition is telling me that what he's saying is true. __And so, I stare up at him in shock. I don't say a word out of fear that I'd let something slip. But Izaya can read me very well, and no matter how hard I try, he'll always know what I'm thinking. "Don't tell me you're jealous!"_

_I don't respond to this, much to his amusement. "Really? Ha ha! You're such a child. I expected this. I knew you'd be upset because I have a soul and you don't." _

_"Shut up!" I yell at him, squeezing my eyes shut as the floodgates open. I can feel the hot tears as they roll down my cheeks. I quickly sit up and throw out my arms to pull him into an embrace, burying my face into his neck. "I don't care if I don't have a soul, Izaya. I'm just so happy you're alive. I was afraid," I sob, finding it difficult to breathe, "that I'd have to endure a meaningless life without you by my side." _

_"You're so selfish," he whispers, chuckling. He pulls me close to him, one hand around my waist and the other resting behind my head and rubbing soothingly. "You've never cried before, Mizu-chan. Maybe that's why you have so many tears." He's right. I can't seem to stop crying. "Look at me."_

_He pulls me away only a few inches so that he can see my face, and I reluctantly open my eyes and gaze back at him. "Such beautiful, icy eyes," he murmurs, wiping away my tears with his thumb. I finally stop crying, only to sniffle pathetically. "I told you I'd come back."_

_I can't speak._

_"But I have to leave you for a while." _

_Upon these words, I find my voice. "Why?"_

_"Resurrecting me took it's toll on you. It sapped you of nearly all your magic. In response to this, your angel genes will become dormant, and you'll forget me," he says with a sad smile._

_"Then what?" I ask, looking away as I try to process everything. Forgetting Izaya. I don't want to have to live without his memory._

_"I'll come back for you once more. And I'll never be far away." He looks out the window and I follow his example, seeing the nightlife of a busy city beyond the glass. "This is Ikebukuro. I have a condo in Shinjuku, so I can visit you often!" He turns back towards me and grins. "But you'll never know I'm watching."_

_"So you're going to stalk me?" _

_"For the most part," he laughs. "You'll be living here. I brought a bunch of boxes with all the music you've written out of the kindness of my heart. You should thank me!"_

_"Thanks," I mumble, a bit too distracted with thoughts of losing Izaya once more, but only to different reasons. "Will I see you again?"_

_"One day. I said I'll come back for you. Come on, Mizu-chan! That's the third time I told you," he flicks my forehead. "Oh, and by the way, I hope you don't mind that I'll be putting a bunch of false memories in your head to make up for your lost memories. Actually, I don't care if it bothers you."_

_"Whatever," I mutter in response to all that he just said, falling back onto the bed. There's a skylight above my head, but there aren't any stars. I hate cities because of this. My eyelids feel heavily, so I obediently close them "I'm tired. Recite something to me."_

_He sighs dramatically and lays down beside me, pulling me to his chest. "Edgar Allan Poe?" I nod and nuzzle into his chest contentedly. _

_Izaya's voice is smoother than silk and equally beautiful._

_"Thus, in discourse, the lovers while away_  
_The night that waned and waned and brought no day._  
_They fell: For Heaven to them no hope imparts_  
_Who hear not for the beating of their hearts."_

_I begin to think of Izaya's heart, but there is a thick fog clouding my thoughts. "Izaya?" _

_"Hm?" he mumbles near my ear, gently rubbing my cheek with the tip of his nose. _

_"Where's your heart?" My body feels heavier than lead, yet I somehow manage to place my hand on his chest, right where his heart should be. There is no pulse beneath my palm. _

_He puts his hand over mine and says softly, "Why, it's with you."_

_We sit here in silence as my consciousness begins to slip away. _'Wait,' _I think, '_I haven't told you my feelings yet.'

_"Izaya?" My heart is racing in my chest, and I know he can hear it. Good. It beats for him, anyways._

_"Hm?" he mumbles again. _

_"I love you."_

**A Little Piece of Heaven  
0o0o0o0o0o0**

My body is swaying.

I'm being carried. I'm reluctant to open my eyes because I know who it is that's carrying me. Izaya. I don't want to look at him right now. I just want to sleep a little more. I wonder where we are. Is this Hell? It doesn't feel like it. When I imagine Hell, I think of fire and demons and heat. So far, I don't feel the warmth of any fire. In fact, it's neither cold nor hot. And the only demon that I'm aware of is Izaya.

"Come on, Mizu-chan. I know you're awake," he says, and the arms supporting me disappear. My eyes snap open right before my back hits the ground.

"What the fuck?!" I yell, groaning in pain. I aim a kick towards his leg but he steps to the side and dodges it.

"Nice try," he says, then puts a hand on his hip like a girl would. "Now get up."

I slowly begin to stand, brushing off the black dirt from my metal armor. I look around at the barren wasteland we are in, with dead trees and flat terrain. The sky is red and black, and there isn't a sun or moon in it. In the distance is a large expanse of water and a dock that leads into it. I don't see a boat anywhere near the dock, but that's to be expected because everything is covered in thick fog.

"Am I even going to need this?" I ask, gesturing towards the armor. He starts to walk ahead of me towards the water, and I closely follow behind.

"Probably not," he says, slowing down slightly until he's walking beside me. He goes out of his way to take my hand in his and intertwine our fingers. I blush slightly at this small bit of physical contact and look ahead, avoid eye contact. "We're taking the ferry out of here. I see no point in staying any longer. The demons here might start to sense your presence and come to eat you, Mizu-chan!"

I make a small 'mmm' sound, not at all worried. I don't get stressed out by things very often.

"You're such a kuudere," Izaya laughs, pulling me along with him. "Kuudere loli!" I just ignore him and his teasing.

We reach the dock in a few minutes, and I warily place a single foot on the wooden planks; it doesn't seem very same, for the wood looks like it's rotting and creaks occasionally. Izaya ignores my hesitation and just yanks me along behind him, causing me to stumble with only his hand to keep me upright.

"Now, we wait!" he announces, walking to the very end of the dock. I stare down at the water and notice that the surface of it doesn't move, nor is my face reflected off of it. It's just black, bottomless. But I can sense something much more than empty space down there.

"How?" I ask, bewildered. Izaya automatically knows what I'm talking about, and stares down with me, a grin on his face.

"You're special, Mizu-chan. You have an affinity for energy. And souls carry a great deal of energy. That's why you can sense them all." He stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "Can you feel their emotions?"

"Yes," I murmur, closing my eyes. This is river is Purgatory, where the souls that have not chosen neither Light nor Darkness are sentenced to reside for an eternity. "They're like me. Lost. Tired. They've waited so long for an end to their existence, and have inevitably given up hope on ever being set free."

"But you're not like that anymore," he whispers in my ear, and lets go of me. He pushes me forward so that I fall towards the water. Right when I'm about to be submerged, he grabs onto my armor and holds me there, with my face just inches from the surface. "You live for me, Mizu-chan."

He slowly begins to pull me back up, then turns me around to face him and places his hands on my shoulders. "Promise me something," he says to me, touching our foreheads together.

"Anything," I whisper, and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I live for Izaya, and I'll do anything for his sake. He can betray me, yet my heart will always belong to him to replace the one that he doesn't have. It beats for both of us, just like his soul exists to sustain Izaya _and _me. We are one.

"Promise me that, no matter what, you'll never leave me," he murmurs, closing his eyes. His expression is serious for once, and he speaks genuinely. My pulse quickens, and I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. There's not a doubt in my mind that he knows I'm blushing.

"Only on one condition," I demand while brushing my fingers along his cheekbones. "Promise me that you'll never let me go."

"You think I would?" he scoffs, bringing his face closer to mine. Our lips are only an inch apart now. "Once I have something, I'll never set it free." His cool breath is tickling my skin. "You are like a beautiful dove, trapped within a cage of silver. And I am the one who holds the key that will set you free."

_'Kiss me already, you fucking idiot.'_

"And I never will." I close my eyes just in time for him to finally kiss me, allowing me to taste his sweet lips. I feel as if I've been starved for a thousand years, and this is my first feast in so long, which I plan on indulging in for as long as physically possible.

It starts off slow, but most things do. He then parts my lips with his tongue and experimentally flicks it over the roof of my mouth. I shudder, and feel his triumphant grin as he continues to kiss me. I hesitantly follow his lead, but too soon does it end. He pulls away and puts a hand on the back of my head, pressing my cheek to his chest.

"You suck at kissing," he chuckles, stroking my head methodically.

I can see through every one of his lies.


	17. Reanimation

**[AN] **This chapter is going to be a HUGE turning point for the fanfiction. A revelation will be made that will affect the entire direction of the story. I have no idea how long this will go on for... But it's not stopping any time soon! Perhaps I should write a sequel? Or should I continue updating in this story? Please give me your insight in your reviews! Also, I wish to write a fanfiction in a new fandom. But I have so many fandoms that I don't know where to start...

I think I'm gonna start replying to all of your reviews... But for this chapter, I'm only replying to each individual reviewer. c;

**Conjuring Rain: **I just want to say thank you for all of the times that you've reviewed. Really, you review EVERY chapter, and it makes me super happy every time I read them. I'm glad that you find my fanfiction at least a little bit interesting. ^-^

**The Darkness That Follows You: **You review my fanfiction a lot, too. Thank you! I hope I continue to meet up to your expectations. :]

**Chocoholics Unite: **I worked very hard on Chapter 16! :3 Izaya and Mizuki moments... kyah! There will be plenty more, but I'm still a bit nervous about writing them... because Izaya doesn't seem like the lovey-dovey kind of guy without being psychotic while showing his affection.

**Lilaaaaaa: **Good! :D Although I must admit, Chapter 1 isn't my favorite... xD It was a bit generic and cliche.

**SuperSlouch: **Yes, Izaya is creepy! But thats why he's so awesome. An uncreepy Izaya would be weird...

**xelainatx: **I'm updating now! :D I hope you like it!

Now, onto the show!

* * *

**Chapter 17: Reanimation**

I should have walked away the moment I first met Izaya. I was fully aware that there would be consequences to my actions, but I didn't care. I _never _cared. And now it's too late. He's already filled me with emotions, infected me with love, and there's no cure for it other than his death. But when you're an angel who exists to sustain and protect life, how can you bring yourself to cut it short, especially if it's the person you love?

Emotions are like children; beautiful, pure, yet sometimes too much to handle. And quite frankly, I don't think they're worth the trouble.

Izaya and I have been waiting for a while for the ferry to arrive. I constantly stare out at the endless water, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boat, but so far I see nothing. Nothing but eternity itself stretched out in front of my very eyes. It's a lot to take in.

When I make this revelation, I snap back to my senses and ask the question that's been nagging at me ever since I saw Izaya's face and realized that his life had not been cut short after all. Ever since I regained my empathy and my love for him with just one look into his eyes. They, too, seem infinite, just like this black water.

"Why aren't you dead?" I guess I could have said that with a bit more concern, but as long as Izaya is by my side, unharmed, I know he's safe. Besides; I'm so accustomed to being stoic and apathetic that I sometimes forget how to display my feelings.

"Really? No 'are you okay's or 'what _ever _could have happened to you, darling's?" He says the last one with a dramatic Southern Belle accent, which is somehow spot-on.

I'm not in the mood for his games, because although I don't know how to express it, I'm still worried as hell about him. I sneak a quick peek at his form, trying to find any chinks in his armor that could suggest he's in physical pain, but none are there. Either that or he's just hiding them rather well. "Why?" I repeat a small fragment of the sentence, the big question that echoes in my mind. Which is kind of ironic, seeing as how my brain is really full right now, so an echo shouldn't be bouncing off the walls of my head.

"It's quite simple, really," he begins, as if everything is so blatantly and almost embarrassingly obvious. Sorry, Izaya, but not everyone can be as 'smart' as you. "As a demon, I can't die unless I'm pierced in the heart or if someone chops off my head." He puts his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him, and shakes my head a little bit. "Now, use that pretty head of yours and figure out for yourself why they failed to kill me." He then winks once and smirks at me. "And don't say because I'm God."

Not like I'd ever make that assumption. Regardless, everything makes sense to me now. I'd be an idiot to not understand the answer behind the 'big question.' "Because no one cut off your head, and your heart isn't in your body," I reply smoothly.

"Exactly!" Izaya lets go of me and pats my head approvingly. "Like I said, all this time it's been with you, Mizu-chan."

"That still doesn't make any sense," I mutter. "I don't have your heart."

He rolls his eyes and points at the center of my chest. I slowly wrap my arms around my boobs in case he was staring at them and look away. "I'm disappointed," he says, tilting his head with a frown. "You took off the necklace I gave you. It acts as the key to the door that leads to my heart. And if someone stabs it, I'll die!"

"I didn't take it off. When I woke up in the lab after you 'died,' it wasn't on me anymore. Psyche must've taken it," I say, slightly worried now. What if they figure out its use then try to find Izaya's heart to kill him for good?

"How very thoughtless of you," he pretends to scold me. I can tell he has something else he wants to say, but something catches his attention, and he suddenly turns his head back towards the water, his cold, crimson eyes narrowing as his sadistic grin widens.

He looks terrifying. And something about it draws me to him, like an explorer's desire to wander into the dangerous unknown.

"Our ferryman has arrived."

I follow Izaya's line of sight and squint my eyes, trying to see through the thick fog, but I don't see the boat anywhere.

I was looking in the wrong place. I had been fixated on the horizon and didn't pay attention to the depths of the ocean and what dwells within it. Not too far out from the dock, something surfaces the ink colored water. Using only my sense of sight, I can't determine what this object is. It looks like a piece of wood. But it smells like death.

"That's him?" I ask, nodding at what I assume to be a body. The ferryman is face down in the water, its lifeless body as still as it would be if it were on dry land rather than floating. "What happened?"

"That ferryman was one of the oldest demons in existence." I look over at Izaya, narrowing my eyes. I'd know that smile anywhere. That's his 'I just won the lottery' smile. That means that the ferryman's death benefits him. Could it also mean that Izaya was the one who caused his death? "And now, after millions of years, he has fallen. This'll cause quite the uproar in the upper levels of Hell."

"That so," I say, still staring at him. He turns his head and raises an eyebrow, the malevolence in his smile fading once he looks at me being replaced with subtle amusement.

"Is that a problem?"

I look away, back towards the body, and reply smoothly. "No." Hell's political affairs don't bother me.

"Good," he says, patting my back, "because you're going to bring him back from the dead."

I turn back to face him, confused, and tilt my head to the right. Why would he kill someone then ask me to revive them? "I can't. I have no jurisdiction over the Light or Dark, so I can't revive him. It's out of my power." That's why I was able to resurrect Izaya. He remains unaligned.

He's watching the body very closely, as if he's just waiting for something to happen. "Exactly. The souls that reside in this water are unaligned. As such, they _are _in your 'jurisdiction.'"

Nothing he's saying is making any sense to me. "Your point?"

He sighs at my ignorance despite not actually being annoyed with me. Izaya likes the spotlight, and enjoys explaining things while his plans are unfolding. "You may not have known this, but when a dead body falls into the River of Styx, it is at the mercy of the souls beneath. So-"

I cut him off to shorten his stupid speech. "So, the souls will possess the body, correct?"

"Correct!" He slaps my back, almost causing me to fall forward and stumble off of the dock. I wonder what would happen if a living body were to fall into the River. "And the souls will battle one another for the chance to possess it."

"But the body is still dead, so you want me to give it life?" I guess, looking back at the body. I wonder if the souls are fighting silently now. Like little ninjas.

"Sort of. The body will become mobile once it has absorbed as many souls as possible. The souls have lost their humanity, and they won't calm down because the body isn't actually alive."

"Huh," I muse, nodding my head slowly. "So what you're saying is it's going to start charging towards us and I have to try to give it the Kiss of Life before it rips my face off and wears it as a mask."

"You can put it that way." His eyes widen a little bit and he opens his mouth to say one last thing. "Oh! But keep in mind that it won't be pacified completely until only a single soul resides in that body."

"Do I have to take them out?" I ask, almost groaning in frustration. This is proving to be way too difficult for me.

"No. This is the weird part." Because this wasn't already weird or anything. Nope. Not at all. "Although providing them with a living body will satisfy them for a while, they'll soon revert back to their lovely old, psychotic selves. Then they'll go on a rampage and attack every human they see until only one soul remains in that body!"

"Wait, what?"

"The souls can be transferred one by one via blood to blood contact. But because a body is not created to hold more than a single soul, the ones that are 'infected' will continue passing on their excess souls until the entire world is conquered!"

This sounds an awful lot like zombies are soon to walk the earth, and I am the one who will unleash them upon the poor, unsuspecting masses of Ikebukuro, Japan. If I had even the faintest sliver of empathy in my body, I'd probably kill the ferryman once and for all, or destroy his body if that didn't work.

But no. I live for Izaya, and as stupid and ignorant as it sounds, I would do anything he asked of me. His happiness, no matter how twisted and contorted it may be, is the thing that I fight for. Therefore, if he tells me to do something that will darken the sinister smile on his face upon my success, I'll do it without hesitation because I'm bound in his web of deceit and deviant euphoria.

"Fine. I'll do it."

Izaya leans down to kiss my jaw, his lips chilling my skin. "I knew you would."

As if on cue, a familiar explosion of azure light blinds us and consumes the surrounding area with its ethereal brilliance. Izaya gives my arm a light squeeze to assure me that he's still by my side, and raises his silken voice against the ringing in my ears that can only be compared to shell shock. The souls have finally merged in a violent eruption of spiritual energy and emotions. It's unnatural. An aberration, just like me. "Alright, Mizu-chan. I'll leave this in your oh-so very capable hands."

I can feel myself drifting, not my body but my _mind. _The blue light starts to fade like the warm colors of a tropical sunrise until it becomes apparent that the light is being absorbed into the ferryman's body. When the scintillating glow dies completely, a heavy pulse of spiritual energy shocks us, and I ready myself for what is to come.

The only scary part about this undead foe is that crazed look in his coal black eyes. The ferryman actually looks pretty human, and his body is in mint condition. From my readings, I've learned that a demon body does not rot in Hell at the same abnormal rate that it does on Earth's soil. It instead remains perfectly preserved until disposed of.

The way it's flailing its arms around, trying to swim towards us, isn't very intimidating either. Izaya suppresses a small chuckle beside me, undoubtedly thinking the same thing as I.

Kind of pathetic, if you ask me. I wonder why Izaya wants me to bother with this thing. _'He's fucking with me, right?'_

It takes several minutes for the 'zombie' to reach the dock, it's uncoordinated hand desperately grabbing the dock, which is around a single meter up from the surface of the water. I kneel on the rotting wood and bend down, taking the ferryman's face in my hands. He feels slimy, but I don't care all too much. He looks up at me, slightly confused for a moment, and my heart begins to race.

This could be my chance. My eyes widen at this ludicrous idea brewing in my head, an idea that seems so obvious yet extremely reckless. Other than achieving Izaya's complete happiness, my biggest wish is to possess my own soul and complete the puzzle that is me. All this thing has to do is bite me, and it'll pass on a soul to me.

"Don't do it," I hear Izaya say, and the weird connection between the ferryman and I breaks. Pulled from its daze, it shakes its head and growls at me like a feral animal, then whips its head to the side to bite my arm, grabbing my hands in an attempt to pull me down into the water. I ensnare my fingers in its hair to hold its head still, and lean in as close as possible so that the mist can creep into its open mouth. The rush of endorphins excites me, and I close my eyes to further enjoy the moment. I feel its body go limp, and I pull away to look at it directly to see what effect I had on it.

"Is it dead?" I ask, poking the thing. Half of its body is on the dock while its legs are dangling off the edge. Its face is resting on the wood, and its eyes are closed. But the steady rise and fall of its chest suggests that its breathing.

"No, you just calmed it. We'll take it back to the human world with us." He crouches down next to me, grabbing a fistful of its hair to lift its head up.

"Hey?" I furrow my eyebrows in thought and take my attention off of the unconscious ferryman. "How did you get your soul? We were in the human world, so..."

Izaya lifts up the ferryman and tosses him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, standing up. "That's a story for another day, dear." God, I hate when he dodges my questions. I straighten my body and sigh.

"How are we getting out of here?"

"Psyche's abilities are so weak it's laughable," he says, scoffing as he shakes his head. "Unlike him, I can open the Gates at will."

So many things remain unsolved. When will my questions be answered? It seems that whenever I take a step forward, Izaya pushes me two steps back. I'm sick of it.

Who is the mysterious Psyche, and what is his relationship with Izaya?

How did Izaya obtain his soul, and will I ever be able to possess one of my own some day?

Why did Izaya have me resurrect the ferryman of the River of Styx, and did he kill him?

Where the _fuck_ are Kururi and Mairu?

But most importantly...

Is Shizuo okay, and will he find it in his heart to forgive me for what I've done?


	18. Home is Where His Heart is

**[AN] **Holy shit, this is a long chapter. You guys must be really used to my short, 1k to 2k long chapters, eh? Well fuck that shit. WE GOING HARD CORE NOW! Perhaps I should make this rated 'M' because of how often Mizu-chan and I like to swear.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Home is Where His Heart is**

Hell sucks. Take it from someone who went there. While the most horrific thing that I witnessed there was most likely thanks to the mechanics of Orihara Izaya himself, and nothing happened to me that would drastically alter my sanity or well-being, the atmosphere... well, sucked. Hell is not a place meant for the living, and it's probably not so comfy-cozy for the dead either, so when I, a living, breathing, _not _reanimated person crossed the forbidden threshold of the Devil's domain, I had felt not only my very life ebbing away, but also the force within me that fuels my desire and ability to protect life as well. My power has weakened, and so have I.

I don't usually hang out with people, but Izaya dragged me along with him to 'celebrate' my 'safe return' with Shinra Kishitani and Celty Sturluson at the Russia Sushi restaurant. I used to pass by here a lot on my way to school, a place I haven't been to in over four months. I even missed my own graduation, so trying to get into a good college is going to suck.

Seeing as how my social skills aren't exactly Grade A worthy, I busy myself by pushing my food around my plate with my chopsticks as everyone else talks. Actually, Shinra and Izaya are the only ones talking. Celty just types her thoughts on her smartphone.

Izaya soon decides to give me a hard time and puts me directly under the spotlight. "Mizu-chan, it's rude to play with your food," he says sarcastically.

I look up at him from my plate to blankly stare at him. "So?"

Celty, probably sensing the tension, quickly types;

**[So, Mizuki. Where have you been the past few months?]**

Such an innocent question. Izaya readies himself to say some well-thought-out excuse, but I answer the question myself.

"Hell and back," I say with a straight face. Through the tinted visor of Celty's helmet, the black, wispy shadows slowly swirl around the small space given to them. Their movements seem hesitant, almost unsure, as thought they're confused.

"You could call it that," Izaya chuckles, prompting Shinra to ask;

"What happened?"

If I knew how to explain, I would have flat out told him because quite frankly, I don't care if the entire world knows what we went through. Izaya, however, views things at a different angle than me, so he instead tells them, "Mizu-chan had pneumonia. It almost ended up killing her, but she's a strong girl." Conveniently, we're seated at a booth, which allows him to lean extremely close to me and wrap an arm around my drooping shoulders. "Isn't that right, dear?"

"Sure," I mutter, managing my signature bored, flat tone of voice.

"Come on, Mizu-chan," Izaya purrs, narrowing his eyes and smirking at me. For the sake of maintaining my apathetic facade, I avoid looking into his eyes. If I do, I'll surely find myself under his spell, and he will have won this game that he always insists we play. "You can manage a sentence with more than one syllable, can't you?" I think that was a sexual innuendo.

Of course, I ignore him, delicately popping a pickled veggie into my mouth. This stupid gathering is pointless.

Shockingly enough, Izaya decides to pause out 'game' for now and looks in the direction of Celty and Shinra who are sitting across from us. Izaya usually never lets things go, so he must have something important he really needs to say. Yet again, he does think that _everything _he says is important.

"So, Yagiri Pharmaceuticals was bought back from Nebula by an unidentified Japanese man who had previous connections with the company while Yagiri Namie was chief. Or was it something else that you told me, Shinra-kun?" I'm surprised Izaya is even having this conversation in my presence. He usually never tells me anything. I cast a lingering glance at Shinra to see his reaction, and he seems a bit confused, but recognition in his eyes suggests that none of this is new to him. The fact that Shinra even got hold of this information before Izaya surprises me, which means the scientist is either directly connected to the new owner or he himself now controls the entire Yagiri Company. I highly doubt that he alone could afford to but it off.

Based on my observations, I've deducted that-

"You gave it to him."

It took me only half a second to come up with that, leaving little time for Shinra to reply to Izaya's question. The three of them turn their attention towards me, but only two are expressing surprise. The other grins at me triumphantly.

"That's exactly right," Izaya beams, then suddenly kisses my left cheek. I frown, almost raising my hand so that I can touch the spot where his lips had just been. "Humor me. What brought you to that conclusion, Mizu-chan?"

I have to think for a few moments to recall the little hints that put that idea in my head. "Well, for one, I doubt many people can acquire information as quickly as you can, let alone Shinra." I look over at the scientist for a moment. "No offense."

"None taken," he says, smiling warmly.

"Go on," Izaya prompts, eager to hear what I have to say.

He has finally succeeded in placing me directly under the spotlight. Lucky for me, I don't feel under pressure, albeit a bit uncomfortable.

"When I considered that, there were two possibilities in my head; either Shinra knew the person who bought the company, or he bought the company. I abandoned the previous notion because even if he did know the new owner, you still would have gotten that information before him. That left the second option." I'm surprised I've been able to say so much all at once without stumbling over my words. I don't usually express my thoughts via speech, so I usually end up stuttering or find it difficult to explain my reasoning. But right now, things seem to be going smoothly. "Seeing as how Yagiri Pharmaceuticals would be an extremely expensive investment, I didn't think he'd be able to afford it on his own. So, someone must have given it to him. I just guessed that it was you, Izaya, because you're a smug bastard, nearly everything in Ikebukuro involves you, and Yagiri Pharmaceuticals has a branch here."

Izaya begins a slow, steady clap, shaking his head in pleasant disbelief. "Bravo! I'm surprised you figured that out so easily. I could use your expertise in my line of work."

"Yeah, me too," Shinra adds. "She figured it out based off of only a small bit of information given to her."

"The only question that still remains is how you were able to afford it," I mutter.

"Well, even after Yagiri Pharmaceuticals had been sold to an American company by the name of Nebula, I've had a large foothold in it."

"Explain."

"I will, Mizu-chan," Izaya says, his patience never thinning. I lean back to get ready for what very well may be a wave of information, but because Izaya has his arm around me, I end up leaning on him instead. He takes the opportunity to tighten his arm just enough to restrict my movements so that I can't pull away. I don't mind. The restaurant is cold and his body is warming me.

Wait, isn't Izaya usually cold?

The onyx haired man interrupts my thoughts by saying, "First of all, I bought the entire company myself. I had lowered its value to around 75% less of its original worth within the span of 'x' amount of years, then gave the current owner over ninety billion yen for it so that I could give it to Shinra-kun here as a gift." I find it hard to believe that even Izaya could come up with that kind of money. I wonder how long he's been investing in this.

"I wouldn't call it a gift," Shinra laughs nervously, pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. "He's just giving it to me because Nebula almost traced him, so new he's going to control the company indirectly though me."

I tilt my head so that I can look up at Izaya, and when my eyes meet his, my heart all but drops into my stomach. The way I act around him is ridiculous.

"You don't want anyone to know who really controls the company?"

"Nope. I have a few aliases and fake identities at my disposal," he says, waving his hand in the air like it was nothing. "I just used one of those, but because I was such a prominent stock holder, they started to investigate who this 'mysterious person' was."

I make no movement or sound to hint towards my understanding. Instead, I wait.

"Izaya's just sly like that," Shinra says, shrugging his shoulders, "But I don't mind. Nebula can investigate me when they find out who the transaction was to, but they won't find anything connecting me to Izaya's fake identity other than the fact that he transferred the ownership over to me. As far as the can probably tell, though, he might have sold it to me under the table."

That's not what I was waiting for, but I add my input anyways. "Won't the suspect that the reason Izaya bought this company in the first place was to sell or give it to a certain someone, especially since the time between nebula selling the company to an already suspicious man and the transfer of it to an unidentified person is a bit short?" Shinra stares at me for a bit, still stunned by my sudden and occasional bouts of extroversion. Everyone is so used to be being quiet, even Celty. If she had eyes, they'd probably express surprise as well. I continue anyways because my observations might also be the same as those from Nebula. "They're going to assume that this mystery man is the person he transferred Yagiri Pharmaceuticals to."

Izaya starts to laugh, rather impressed with me. He casts a seductive, sideways glance on me, and shortens the distance between our faces until I can feel his light breathing on my lips. "And what makes you think that wasn't my intention?" he whispers huskily, but the volume of his voice has nothing to do with preventing the couple across us from hearing; the Dullahan can still pick up anything that we're saying. "It would take attention away from me and place it on someone else."

"Because Shinra is your friend," I quickly reply. "Your only friend."

"Why don't you just tell us the _real _reason, Mizu-chan?" Izaya suggests, disregarding my vague attempt to make him seem a bit less malevolent than he really is.

I sigh ever so slightly. "Because if they think that Shinra is the previous stock holder, then he'll be under tight surveillance by Nebula which will make it difficult for you to be involved in the company, even if it is indirectly."

Izaya bursts into a fit of enthused laughter, letting go of me to clap his hands together. The other patrons begin staring at us even more intently than they already were. It seems that wherever Izaya and I go out, we're always being stared at. It's especially rough today, since we have the infamous black rider with us and an odd looking man in a lab coat. People even came into the restaurant just to see her in a 'new environment,' i.e. somewhere other than cruising the streets of Ikebukuro on a silent black bike.

"Isn't she marvelous?" Izaya boasts like a proud parent. "You know me too well, Mizu-chan." No, Izaya. You're just predictable.

"Her intelligence is above average," Shinra replies, not as interested as Izaya is. I expect that he'd be more enthralled by Celty's anatomy than the conversation we're having right now. When you think about it, Izaya and Shinra are like two sides of the same coin. Izaya prefers the psychological aspects of people, while Shinra is much more interested by their physical traits.

"Then, what are you going to do about it, Izaya?" I inquire.

"Simple. Shift their attention elsewhere and make it look like I made the transaction with a completely different person. In other words, implement a way to tie my fake identity with another one of my fake identities."

"Hm," I mumble, looking away. At least he plans on solving that problem. Now I don't have to worry about him getting caught. That'd be a bit inconvenient for both of us.

Celty had remained a mere spectator to this all, and now that we've passed that topic, she adds her own input on the idle chatter between Izaya and Shinra with her phone. I begin waiting once again. When I realize that the thing I'm waiting for won't come without my pointing it out, I open my mouth to interrogate Izaya.

"Is that all?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him despite not actually being angry.

His expression takes on a look of more malicious interest, from the mirrored narrowing of his cold, brown eyes to the slowly widening, sadistic grin. He knows with absolute clarity what I am referring to. He wanted me to react this way. But why?

"What do you mean, Mizuki-san?" Shinra asks, befuddled.

"Yes, that's all. Why do you ask?" Izaya puts his elbow on the table and rests his chin on his hand. Let the stare-down commence.

"Because during that entire conversation, neither of you offered any information regarding Yagiri Pharmaceuticals to each other. Instead, Izaya, you only spoke about what Shinra already knew and you were also the one who began the conversation in the first place," I say, my attention completely fixated on him to see if there were any clues in his face or speech. As I expected, his smile never fails him and I can never seem to see past it.

"Oh? What are you getting at?"

"Your intention must have been to provide _me _with this information. Why?"

Izaya looks away, and I quickly claim this small victory. My eyes were starting to sting because I hadn't been blinking. "So, you caught on to that, huh? Well, I can't say I didn't hope that you would." He puts me under his hypnotic gaze once more and drapes an arm over the cushioned seat behind us, his fingertips reaching my shoulder farthest from him with ease. "Would you like to hear the method behind my madness?"

I would like to hear the methods behind every single fit of his madness, but I nod anyways and decide to take what he's offering me in this moment.

"I simply want you to trust me."

That's it? His simple, seemingly honest answer manages to catch me off guard, and I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. _'Fuck, he said that just to screw with my head, didn't he?!'_

"Mizu-san, you're blushing!" Shinra notes.

"You're such an asshole," I mutter, ignoring Shinra. My eyes lower to my lap where my hands rest, clenched into tight fists.

"I'm serious. I didn't say that to embarrass you, Mizu-chan," he says in a soft, lilting tone, then tilts my chin up with his finger. "You're my partner in crime, so I'm going to tell you everything that goes on from here on out."

"You mean you're going to hint at things or reveal them indirectly to me, right?" This doesn't sound like good news to me because I have a feeling that the answers will only be selective.

"Perhaps," he replies, pulling me closer to him until I'm nearly sitting in his lap. "But you don't mind, do you?"

I close my eyes and my body slowly begins to relax when he embraces me. Dug into the palms of my hands are familiar red crescents inflicted by my long nails.

"I'll take that as a no," he chuckles before kissing my cheek. The feeling of his lips on my skin lingers long after they're gone.

When our brief, somehow intimate moment ends, I hear the sound of fingers darting over a keypad. I open my eyes to rad what's on Celty's mind, and the screen of her phone reads;

**[You guys are kind of cute together.]**

My head tilts at an angle, and Izaya makes a girlish squeal, nuzzling my cheek. "Aren't we?"

"Stop," I grumble, unsure of how to react to to way he's grabbing at me. Am I being molested?

"You like it!" Izaya teases, and I notice that his smile has lost its sadistic charm and has taken on a bit of a childish demeanor. Yeah, I guess I kind of do like it.

"Don't bully her so much, Izaya-kun," Shinra scolds.

**[Cute in a weird, twisted way], **I catch on Celty's phone while in the middle of trying to fend of Izaya's attacks.

"That's kind of like us!" Shinra grins, wrapping his arm around Celty. She quickly pulls away and puts as much space as the booth allows between them.

**[We're so not like that!]**

If she had a head, I bet she'd be blushing.

**A Little Piece of Heaven**

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

Due to Ikebukuro having such a large population within such small boundaries, traffic is usually pretty slow, especially at this time of night. So, Izaya and I are forced to walk back to my place because neither of us have the luxury of having a car. Maybe I should at least invest in one just in case I want to go somewhere out of Tokyo.

Well, I guess that's what wings are for. Too bad I don't even know how to fly.

I like it this way, though. Just me and Izaya, walking side my side in the colorful streets of Shinjuku. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him subtly watching those he probably considers 'most interesting.' Try as I may, I don't see the differences in any of them like Izaya does. I know that everyone is different and similar in ways that the human eye cannot detect, but all my eyes see is a large, moving mass of people that blend together with one another. They're like the ocean, or even a glass of water. You know that they're made up of countless, minuscule drops, but you're unable to see each one, or even fathom their individual worth.

Izaya has the ability to do this. He sees each and every one of his humans as individuals. Expendable, yes, but individual.

I'm a bit selfish. His attention is on them, but I want it to be on me. Is this what they call jealousy?

"Are you troubled by something, Mizu-chan?" I look up to see Izaya finally focused on me, and I somehow manage a dry, sarcastic laugh. I don't laugh very often, so it sounds a bit weird.

"It's like you can read my mind," I say, slightly frustrated. It seems like not even my thoughts are safe when I'm around him.

"It wouldn't be that fun if I truly could. I have a pretty good idea of what;s bothering you, but why don't you tell me just in case I'm wrong?" He absent mindedly kicks a cigarette out of his path with the toe of his shoe.

His suggestion isn't actually that honest. I know he just wants the satisfaction of hearing me say what's on my mind, despite already knowing what it is. In the end, I decide to give him that satisfaction.

"When you watch your 'precious humans' like that, I get upset," I mutter, my usual, dull tone reflect a bit of melancholy. He picks up on that, and in a natural, human-like gesture, he reaches for my hand and takes it.

"There are many different kinds of love, Mizu-chan."

My fingers hesitantly intertwine with his, and my blank expression becomes a frown.

"What kind of love do you feel for them? And what do you feel for me?" Could it be possible for Izaya to love me and only me, or is that too much to ask? Is it wrong of my to want Izaya to abandon the love he feels for humans and focus all of it on me instead?

"I love all of my humans equally, but that love is limited to that of a god and his followers." His thumb begins to rub the back of the hand that he's holding. "I love all of them the same. My feelings can't move advance or digress."

He doesn't answer my second question at first, so I ask him again. "What about me?" I feel intrusive.

"As for you," his voice trails off, and I wonder why he seems to be at a loss for words. I'm usually so good at reading him, but right now he's acting differently than he normally does. He doesn't smirk, he doesn't grin. Instead, Izaya is smiling. And it's creeping the hell out of me. "As for you," he begins once more, "my love is all encompassing. I don't know how to explain it. I've spent almost all of my life observing humans and their psychological and social connections, but only now do I realize how wrong I've been."

I tilt my head at him, confused and unsure at what he's getting at. "What have you been wrong about?"

There's that smirk I was looking for. Because of the bitterness in it, it's still unfamiliar, but it's a smirk nonetheless. "I was wrong about what drives the human race. I was wrong about many things, but the foremost mistake I had made was my assumption on this matter." His smirk becomes grimmer and even more bitter. "I'm flawed."

He always has to keep people waiting, especially me. "Your point being...?"

He lets go of my hand to throw both of them in the air like he's trying to touch the sky. "Humanity is not bound by compassion or love, but by the heavy chains of hatred and revenge," he explains in his smooth, baritone voice. "It's the cruel reality that humans must face, and many are ignorant of this fact. I don't care what drives the entire human race. I don't even care about the results that epidemics or mass killings or war has on the majority of the population," he admits without shame, putting his hands behind his head. "No, Mizu-chan, what matters to me is the individual."

Izaya sometimes makes it really difficult for me to see anything noble in him. At least he's honest with himself and knows what he wants. He's clearly dodging the subject of his feelings towards me right now, but I don't care. I know he loves me. I've felt his love through his blood before, and I must admit with great regret that I miss that feeling.

"The only thing that matters to me is you," I say, looking straight ahead at the backs of the people walking in front of us. He ruffles my hair a bit with his hand, and I tilt my head towards him, liking the feeling of his fingers running through my onyx black strands.

"You seem upset," he notes, wrapping that same arm around my shoulders. I'm perfect height for an arm rest. "Would it make things better if I said you're the one thing that matters most to me?"

I try not to fall for his cheap tricks, but I don't stop them either. "Maybe. If you were being honest."

He pulls me closer, giving my shoulder a reassuring rub. "I am. But I don't care if you don't believe me, because the truth is the truth whether you accept it or not."

I yawn, not willing to admit that I kind of _do _believe him. It's pretty late, and we've been out all day. Luckily, we reach his condo in a few more moments, and slowly begin to ascend the outside stairs.

When we get inside, I look down and see my only other pair of shoes placed perfectly right next to a few of his in the sunken floor of his condo. Izaya closes the door behind him, locking it three times, and grins. "I couldn't have you living in your own place anymore, could I?"

_'No, of course not.' _I sit down on the raised portion of the floor to take my shoes off, and Izaya does the same. When I first met him, I never would have thought that Izaya was the kind of person who'd bother using with using a genkan like this one. It seems too... _human._ But he's actually a huge clean freak. I peak over at him, and he slowly stands up when his shoes are off. I follow his lead, and we go into the living room.

This guys so fucking rich, it pisses me off. The ceiling is two stories high, and there's a set of stairs that leads to the upstairs section which is still visible from where I stand. All that acts as a second wall up there is a glass railing. There are a few doors as far as I can tell, but I've only been in one of them; the farthest right, which is his bedroom. The living room has an entire wall made of glass and Izaya's desk so that he can look out at Shinjuku and watch people like the fucking freak he is. So, pretty much the entire first floor is one room with different sections.

I walk over to the kitchen area and go through the cabinets and pull out a box of saltines. "Well, since I live here now, I can go through your food whenever I feel like it," I explain to him. "I assume you have all of my things in the guest room?"

Izaya passes by me and goes to his desk, plopping down with mock exasperation onto the swivel chair. "No, your stuff is in my room. You'll be sleeping with me, _in my bed." _

I nearly drop the box onto the floor, and it dances on my fingertips while I try to catch it. I hug it close to my chest now just so that it doesn't slip out of my hands again. "I can take the couch if I have to," I say, swallowing hard. My voice sounds normal. To my ears, at least.

"I have a spare bedroom, but wouldn't it be so much funner if we slept in the same room?" Izaya asks in an excited tone like we're two teenage girls having an extended slumber party. I swear, sometimes I think he's gay, but I don't even know what his actual sexual orientation even is. He'd probably fuck anything that moves. He's an incubus, after all.

"Whatever," I mutter, slightly embarrassed. "I'm going to bed." And I'm taking the damn saltines with me.

"I'll join you in a few! And don't bring food into my room. I don't want crumbs on my sheets." Oh. My. God. He's so gay.

"Fine," I grumble, ripping open one of the packages inside the box and shoving a few saltines in my mouth all at once. I then put the box back in one of the cabinets, still chewing, and head to his room.

When I open the door, I nearly groan. His room is huge, that I already knew, but he even got another dresser that matches the rest of his set for my clothes. My old room literally only had an alarm clock and my clothes, so other than the new, small addition of furniture, nothing has changed.

There's only one bed.

"Well, at least it's big," I mutter under my breath, going over to the new dresser. Yes, the thought that Izaya saw my under garments did occur to me, and it pisses me off.

I open the top drawer. He folded my clothes. Not just my clothes, but the stuff that I wear _beneath_ my clothes. And everything is color coded. _Everything._

"Fuck everything," I groan, slamming the drawer shut. I swear I'm hearing Izaya's mocking laughter from where I am in his room. He didn't fold my stuff as a kind gesture. He did it just to fuck with me.

I open the next drawer down and pull out a pair of random pajama bottoms. I usually lose my stuff, so nothing matches. I don't even have a single pair of matching socks. I then select one of the many black shirts that I own and get changed.

As soon as I pull up my pants, Izaya walks in without even knocking. "Your timing is impeccable," I say sarcastically, and he walks by me, ruffling my hair as he passes, and goes through his dresser for his clothes. I've never seen him naked before, and I don't exactly want to right now. I expected him to tease me when I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked away from him as he dressed, staring at the wall, but he said nothing.

"Tired?" he asked when he was finished, standing over me. He closed his eyes and ran his lips along my jaw. I tilt my head up and to the side a little, enjoying the feeling of his lips on my skin.

"Mhm," I mumble, and he answers me with a cute chuckle.

"Too bad," he growls playfully, pushing me onto my back. My legs are still dangling off of the bed, and he crouches over my body, softly nibbling my neck. It may feel nice, but right now I want something else, so I tug on a few strands of his hair with my fingers. Instead of mistaking my attention grabbing action as a sign of passion, Izaya looks up with a tiny smile. "What is it?"

I'm not used to admitting my feelings or what I really want, so I turn my head away in preparation for my answer. This time, Izaya's the one who tugs on my hair, although he grabs into my roots and turns my head towards him so that I can't look away. This makes it much more difficult for me to speak, added to the weight of his heavy, sultry gaze.

I swallow hard, and mumble to him, "I want to..."

Izaya grins down at me, leaning his ear near my lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that. Say it again?"

I hold back and annoyed hiss, and repeat myself with the same unintelligible speech. "I want..."

"Don't mumble, Mizu-chan. It's rude."

I sigh, take a deep breath, and answer him with much regret. "I want to just lay down with you right now."

Izaya tries to stifle his laughter by burying his face in my shirt. "Really? That's all?"

My eyebrows furrow at this, and I frown at him. "What did you think I was going to say?"

Perhaps I shouldn't have asked that question. "You were so hesitant and shy that I thought it was going to be something else." Why does he keep laughing?

"Um..."

"Take me, Izaya!" the onyx haired man yells, rolling off of me and onto his back on the bed, then throws his arms and legs up in the air and yells again, "Take me!" I quickly sit up and lean over to punch him as hard as I can in his curvy side.

"You fucking pervert!" I growl as he curls up in pain. He still continues to laugh despite the fact that his right side is probably going to be bruised in the morning at.

"Oh come one," he says, slowly sitting up. A small wince twists his pretty face, and a smug feeling hovers over me now that I know I was able to cause him physical pain. Me? Sadistic? No, of course not. "I'll snuggle with you, alright?"

I look away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. "What makes you think I want to anymore?"

Without warning, the demon pounces on top of me, throwing me farther up on to the bed. "Don't care," he mumbles, laying me down on my side so that I face him. He then pulls the thick, black and red blanket over us and pulls me into his chest, one of his arms around my waist while the other rests behind his head. "Are you blushing yet?" he murmurs, kissing my nose. I quickly tilt my head up to steal a kiss from his lips, which catches him by surprise.

"You tell me."

His lips are right near my ear, so his light laughter is tickling me. A contended sigh escapes those lips, and he nuzzles his face into my hair.

"Izaya?" I whisper with a frown on my face.

"Mhm?"

"I'll only live with you on one condition," I mutter, leaning back so that I can point at his face with my index finger.

"Oh?" He asks, amused. "And what could that be?"

"Sleep with me every night when you come home."

"Whatever you want," he murmurs, closing his eyes blissfully. Izaya falls asleep in a matter if moments.

The only reason I requested that Izaya stay with me every night when he's _home _is because I know that he won't always be with me. He'll be out on a job or fucking up someones life through the late, dark hours of the night. My concern isn't for those that he'll end up hurting. It's selfish, I know, but all I care about is his safety.

When I'm about to fall asleep, lulled by the sound of his feathery breathing, I hear something that rouses me from my stupor. It's like the heavy, methodical pounding of a drum. It's quiet and hushed, and I peer over Izaya's shoulder to look towards the direction it's coming from.

On Izaya's night stand is a single, ornate wooden box with a small keyhole. I squint my eyes as I try to see through the heavy darkness, and then widen them when I realize what that box contains.

It's his still-beating heart.


	19. We All Fall Down

**[AN] **well, it's been quite some time since my last chapter update. I usually used to post within intervals of two or three weeks, but a lot has happened lately. sorry if my updates continue to be infrequent... I hope you enjoy this, and continue to follow and favorite. it means a lot. oh, and if you reviewed, that'd be awesome.~ feed this demon with your insight and flames!

And yes, I like to insert random song lyrics here, there, and everywhere.

* * *

**Chapter 19: We All Fall Down**

This room is warm, and very, very unfamiliar. The walls and ceiling consist of bolted metal plates, the floor is made of steel, the door is titanium, and it houses only three things; myself, Izaya, and a severed head.

"You have never shown me this place before," I note, and my sentence echoes as I stand by the door with him beside me. It had closed automatically after we entered, and there appears to be no knob. I wonder how he will get us out.

Or, perhaps he doesn't plan on my escaping, I think bitterly.

He smiles at me in that genuine way that almost puts a frown on my face. "I didn't think it was necessary at the time." He continues walking forward towards the severed head that rests in a glass container upon a small, round table. It is a girl, and her eyes are closed, as though she is sleeping. It is in perfect condition, like it had left its body just yesterday.

The man's slender fingers run along the outside of the glass, and there's a yearning in his eyes for him to reach into it and touch the skin, graze his finger tips over the lids of her eyes and memorize the lines of her face with his hands.

I want to kill her. I want to rip the flesh from her face and drink her blood from her bleached skull, and I want to do it all while he watches. That head is alive, I can feel it, and I want to kill her because Izaya has never looked at me they way he's looking at her.

"You're angry?" Izaya chuckles, not even glancing at me, never taking his eyes from that head. His laughter is everywhere, and I can't escape it. Just let me out. Let me leave before I say or do something reckless.

"You love her," I hiss, mouth like a needle that injects poison into the air. It's a statement, not a question, and I want to take it back, but the words are everywhere and they won't go away. He loves her. He loves _it _more than he loves me.

"Don't be a hypocrite," he says, finally looking at me, but instead of tenderness his eyes are jeering. "You love Shizu-chan but it's wrong for me to love someone other than you?"

I don't take it to heart. I shouldn't take anything this man says to heart, because his words are twisted and he's really the bane of my existence, and if I had a gun right now it would be Izaya that I'd shoot, not the head he admires so much. "So you do love her," I spit, wanting an actual answer although there was never any question asked.

He wraps his arm around the glass like he's embracing it. "And if I do?" he teases, eyes half lidded, wearing a crooked smile because it's all just some stupid game to him.

"If you love her," I whisper, swallowing hard. I can't look at him, not when he's staring at me like that, so I tilt my head down and concentrate on the small imperfections on the metal floor. "Then I will leave you two alone so that you may run off into the sunset together and live happily ever after."

This answer amuses him, and he bursts into laughter. I want to puke. "Oh, Mizu-chan!" I hear footfall, but it sounds like there is an army approaching me because of all the echoes. "You know she can't run. She's bloody _headless_." It's very like him to joke and mock my feelings.

"Love should be a selfless thing," I whisper, closing my eyes when I feel his presence right before me. "That is how books and movies depict it as. But it is the most _selfish_ thing. I know this, because I would sacrifice the world, everything, anything, just to appease you. _And I would not give a single damn if it caused others suffering."_

Hands find the metal wall on other side of my head, trapping me. Breath tickles my ears, slips past my lips, mingles with the air in my lungs, and it's suffocating, but I relish in all of it. "Mizuki."

I don't say anything.

"Damn, you're so insecure!" he laughs, kissing my cheek airily. "That head is going to take me to the top. Heaven won't be a place in a book that I can't travel to after she gets me what I want. What _we_ need."

I open my eyes, meeting his, and their calculating, cunning, conniving, and he's planning something. I can practically see the thoughts just swimming in his head, the blueprints unraveling onto the table for me to read. "Why do you want to go to Heaven? You're a demon."

He shakes his head, onyx black tresses in need of a trim tickling my cheeks. I like his hair when it's a bit long like that, when it reaches the nape of his neck and frames his cheekbones in the same way dark lashes frame bright eyes. "Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die. One day, all the sand in my hourglass will hit the bottom. I don't want my existence to be erased, but that's the fate of every demon after they die, and I'm one of them." He rests his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. "Are you familiar with Norse mythology?"

"It's vague," I reply, wondering where he is getting at.

"Well, let's focus on the Valkyrie. It is a beautiful warrior who travels the battlefield and chooses the warriors who died valiantly and with honor. She takes them to Valhalla, or Heaven." He raises a finger, gazing at me intensely, the corners of his lips curling up even more. "However, they appear only in times of war."

I raise a brow in speculation. "I am assuming that the head is that of a Valkyrie? But Valkyries are not typically headless, are they?"

He shakes his head. "No. But can you think of something else that is?"

"Celty Sturluson. A Dullahan." It's an automatic answer. When the people of Ikebukuro think 'headless,' a shadow of the infamous Black Rider creeps into their heads like the smoke that emanates from it's neck invades the air.

"Correct!" he approves, giving the corner of my mouth a brief peck.

"So, the head is Celty's?" I ask bitterly. My feelings must contradict my earlier testimony. All of this time, Celty has been desperately searching for her severed head, and he has been the one in possession of it. What will I do about it? For Celty?

Nothing at all.

I feel disgusting. Just moments ago, I thought about butchering the head of a dear friend over petty jealousy.

"Yes," he murmurs, and it sounds like the voice of a satisfied snake.

"I fail to see the connection to Valkyries."

He pulls away, lets his arms fall like curtains after a show, and takes a few steps back. Looking pleased with himself, after all he must have come up with this idea all on his own, he says with great pride, "Well, it's just a hypothesis, but I believe that Dullahans are Valkyries, and that Celty's eyes will open during a time of war in order to bring those who are worthy to Heaven."

Heaven. It's such a foreign concept now. To many, Heaven is an idea, a myth, something they've never seen before, but in their hearts they know it is real. Everyone _does _want to go to Heaven, even demons. Everyone but me, that is. I don't belong there, and I'm not going to pretend like I do. Izaya's a creature of the abyss, yet his sole desire is to find everlasting life, and he'll only get it if he eats of the fruit of Heaven. Little does he know that the fruit is poisonous and leaves a foul taste in the mouth. I will bring him there, if that is his wish. I'll learn how to fly if I have to, even if I'd get shot from the sky for my efforts. Even if Izaya is the one who pulls the trigger.

"You want war?" I ask, and my barriers are up, and all my guns are pointed towards the world, safety off. If it's destruction he wants, it's destruction he'll get.

He grins, but it doesn't make my heart flutter, and it doesn't warm my face with it's radiance. It only hurts.

The barrel of the gun that's pressed against my head is cold.

"Yeah. I really do."

* * *

There is no set purpose for the human race. It has already been determined that our species is unnecessary for global well-being, and if we one day vanished off of the face of the earth, Mother Nature would move on. In fact, she would benefit from our extinction. We do not provide anything to her or her children. We have fallen out of the food chain, and as such we are not part of the natural order of things anymore. We are expendable. We take, and only occasionally do we give back, but in the long-run, we do so only for self preservation because there are certain species that are necessary for our own survival, but we are not necessary for any. Humanity is a parasite.

And to this day, I still wonder what Izaya sees in humanity, I wonder what I see in him or what he sees in me.

This room is cold, and very, very familiar. The walls are white like snow, the floor is tiled, there are metal tables in a few places, some monitors, and IVs. Flashes of the time spent in those too clean halls, unsure of my fate, consume me. Psyche's bright eyes are everywhere, and they glow in the strong lights of the room I stand in, made even more realistic due to the setting I'm in. When I think of Psyche, I picture cherry blossoms and empty hospitals for the lost and unholy.

I run my fingertips along the metallic tabletop, a place for putting bodies, be they dead or alive, to operate and test on. A small part of me feels remorse for the creature whose fate I've twisted, who had been laid bare on these tables and cut open because of my actions and a twisted sense of loyalty, but it is snuffed out by Izaya's aura. He pushes down on my emotions with his, an action that he rarely does, so he must be worried that I'll act upon my feelings and try to free the beast that I've created from its shackles. He really should know better than that.

"I'm sorry Celty can't be here to share this moment with us, but to be honest, she wanted nothing to do with it," Shinra says regrettably. This place, a series of rooms for scientific and medical purposes, are hidden within Shinra and Celty's apartment and house the ferryman who I had cursed a few weeks ago.

"Fine by me," Izaya muses, not disheartened by the Dullahan's absense. He's as chipper as ever.

Shrinra leads us to the farthest wall of the ten by ten yard room. The wall itself is made of glass and cuts off a monster of my own design from the rest of the world. I imagine that it is silent and lonely in there as I press my palms against the bullet-proof barrier, warm breath fogging the surface, and look inside.

When my eyes rest upon the prisoner's unmoving form, pain engulfs my entire being. Something feels wrong in my chest, like I'm being stabbed by a knife that's been heated beneath a bare flame. My knees begin to buckle, and I lean against the glass to remain upright. Shinra pays no notice, and although Izaya doesn't look at me directly, he grins as though my actions amuse him. Fiercely, I bite down on my lip to muffle an outcry of pain, and glare at the onyx-haired demon with intense animosity. He knows why I'm feeling such profound agony, yet he does nothing, but rather takes pleasure from it.

His voice adds another smoldering sword to the wound inside me and saws at the outer walls of the cut in order to add to my suffering.

"Here lays Greed, one of the seven Devil Kings." Slightly befuddled yet not even remotely distracted from the pain inside my body and mind, I turn my attention back towards the unmoving body covered by a crisp, white sheet and laying on the single metallic table within this quarantined section. Wires trail from monitors and IVs like snakes, slithering along the floor and then disappearing beneath the sheet. One of the monitors depicts a reading of an astonishing 15 BPM.

Finally, I look towards Izaya, waiting for him to explain what he had just said. Greed? Surely this is not one of the most powerful demons to have ever existed, one of the seven fallen angels in the S Class, the top rank in the demon heirarchy, right?

I nod solemnly, finally understanding the identity of the creature before us. I begin speaking in my clear, automatic tone. "My peers did not teach me much about demonology because I am a healer, so I did not know that the ferryman was Greed." I imagine this will cause problems.

"His other name is Mammon, which I'm sure you already know," Izaya replies, eyeing me closely as though he's waiting for me to shatter. The pain has not yet subsided, nor has it weakened, though I have now adapted to it and am distracting myself with the sound of Izaya's smooth voice. "There are seven Devil Kings; Mammon, the King of Greed, Beelzebub, King of Gluttony, Asmodeus, King of Lust, Belphegor, King of Sloth, Leviathan, King of Envy, Lucifer, King of Pride, and finally Satan, King of Wrath. Satan is who most agree to be the king of kings."

Shinra doesn't seem to be paying much attention to this, for I see him fumbling around the white room, going through various drawers and pawing through cabinets in search of something. Izaya makes his way over to the glass door, where a key pad, finger print scanner, and key hole are. He punches in a few numbers, then inserts his nail into the hole and twists it around a little until he hears a satisfying click. Shinra looks up from where he is, searching through one of the drawers, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Couldn't seem to find the key," he admits, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "But I guess you've got that part covered, eh, Izaya-kun?" He comes over to us and stops in front of the door, and Izaya moves out of the way for him to touch his index finger to the scanner. It blinks green, confirming the print, and the door unlocks. "But how'd you figure out the code?"

Izaya shakes his head at Shinra's ignorance. "Have you forgotten? I'm an informant, and the best one at that."

"Right," Shinra says, not minding the male's arrogant demeanor. As he opens the door, my heart begins to accelerate to an almost painful pace, and as I pass the invisible threshold, I collapse.

All three million, three hundred and sixty thousand, twenty two souls overwhelm me. They batter my mind, threatening to break me. My heart only beats faster, pumping blood viciously through my arteries until I feel like they're about to burst. My head is pulsating, it's about to explode, and I begin pulling at my hair and kicking at the floor, dark strands of hair at the mercy of relentless fingers, the knuckles split from the pressure. I manage one blood curdling, piercing shriek of pain and horror before my lungs are starved of oxygen.

I feel like I'm drowning, and have been simultaneously set on fire. I feel like someone is stabbing me with a white-hot knife, over and over again, and a hand is being reached inside of my body, trying to tear my heart out of my very chest, but the hand is rotted and the flesh is gone, and the bones are like glass and all they do is scratch me. I cannot remember ever closing my eyes, but everything is dark, nor can I even recall a time that I hadn't felt this terrible anguish. It's almost as though pain has and forever will be a part of my life. As though I myself am pain.

When will this end?

"Izaya," I managed to choke, wheezing uncontrollably. I remember, I remember Izaya. Izaya, who causes me pain, but is still somehow my medication. 'The pill on my tongue.'

I can hear his voice now. "Mizu-chan. _Mizuki."_

I feel his lips against mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Gasping, but receiving no air, my heart begins to steady, although it remains slightly accelerated from this sudden kiss. When our tongues meet, I taste blood, and quickly discern it as his. I run my tongue along his to see where the bleeding is coming from, and I feel a small cut, probably inflicted by one of his sharp canines. It tastes like sugared water and anger, anger and energy, like cocaine. And it is like cocaine. The moment I got a taste of it, I wasn't myself anymore. Only now am I aware of Shinra's voice calling my name over and over again like a broken record. I want to tell him to shut up, but I've lost my voice.

"Shimizu-san?" Shinra asks, and my eyes flutter open. I realize now that I am resting within Izaya's arms, him kneeling on the floor. He lifts me up, bridal style, and Shinra looks down at me, retrieving a flashlight from the pocket of his white coat. He clicks it on, the artificial light that reflects off his prescription glasses blinding me, and waves the light in front of my eyes like a taunt, like he does it just to further impede my vision, then returns it when he decides I've had enough. There is still a terrible thrashing against my skull, but the nausea has dissipated. No longer am I victim to the whirlwind of incomprehensible emotions that were not mine, but rather those of the souls caught inside that undead body like a dream catcher that traps nightmares.

"She's fine," Izaya answers for me. "She just didn't react that well to so many condensed souls in such a small place."

"Did you do something to stop the attack when you kissed her?" Shinra presses the back of his hand to my forehead.

"I overpowered her aura with mine by giving her my blood," Izaya murmurs, keeping his voice low. I wonder if he's taking into consideration my head ache by being quiet. What he said is true, though. I feel no empathy, no sadness, anger, or happiness. Even my love for Izaya is lost. Or, perhaps during these few moments of apathy, I haven't lost my feelings for him, but rather they now do not exist at all, anywhere, anymore. The thought would have destroyed me if I had anything left to destroy.

The strange doctor leans close to me, taking on an uncharacteristically professional demeanor. I feel Izaya's muscles tense, his arms pulling me closer to him. Shinra disregards this, and asks in a polite, curious tone, "Can I get a look at her?"

Now it is my turn to tense. My head snaps towards the direction of Shinra, eyes narrowing, lips set into a hard line. Anger and fear ensue within me, dancing, trying to win the battle for control of me. Anger emerges victorious.

"Do not touch me," I warn, trying to sound threatening, but my throat is sore so I end up sounding hoarse and on the verge of death. Gone are the days within god forsaken places such as these, with bright lights and white and lab coats. No one should have to be a test subect or a living weapon for mass destruction, a dispensable tool with a fate that's been decided for them upon creation or birth. If only I had this epiphany earlier. I have just damned a man, be he a demon or otherwise, and I'm about ready to damn the rest of the world.

Shinra smiles at me like I'm some ignorant child, and he looks at Izaya as though asking for parental consent. "You disgust me," I spit, forcing myself out of Izaya's arms, legs nearly failing when I stand on the floor. He begins to chuckle, shrugging slightly.

"Sorry, Shinra-kun. You heard the woman. Besides, I'm the only one who's allowed to touch her."

"What about-" Shinra gets cut off when Izaya raises a hand to silence him.

"We don't speak about that," he reminds the doctor. "You've done enough."

After an hour of Shinra and Izaya discussing the state of the ferryman -or Mammon, rather- and I standing silently by, the three of us make our leave. As we exit my personal Hell, I look back towards the unconscious form of Greed, and, without much consideration, make sure the glass door is kept half a centimeter open.

* * *

The door behind us closes and locks automatically.

In this place, rooms that I once sought shelter within, I feel trapped. Or maybe it is _him _the onyx haired demon beside me, who has me trapped, like he's slipped a ring around my finger and has me bound to him under law and oath, but he is too pompous to devote himself in such a way to another person unless he'd gain something from it. Maybe that's why he has two silver bands on both of his hands.

Without warning and giving me no time to catch my breath, Izaya's hands find mine and he presses me against the wall of the bedroom. It is late, and my initial plans were to slip into a blissful repose, though his hands and mouth turn my lethargy into awareness. I'm not used to such forms of affection. We hardly ever really kiss, not like this, and when his lips finally find mine, I am reminded of that small stutter in my heart, of the heat that rises to my cheeks and makes me weak in the knees like some petty teenage girl when she's making out with her boyfriend of only two weeks that she's just oh-so-very in love with in his cigarette stained car, with the windows up, air conditioner on, and punk rock playing in the background.

"Stop tempting me," he mumbles against my lips, gentle yet possessive tongue gliding along their entrance. It makes me shudder, which makes Izaya grind his lower body against mine, which in turn makes me gasp because he's never done that to me, never in all of our years of association. I am reminded of his genus and species, of the insatiable desire that he empties into the young men and women that work the wide selection of street corners in Ikebukuro.

I kiss him back, trying to make it convincing, which ultimately and predictably fails. He chuckles, still kissing me, and leaves little room for my response. "I'm not trying to."

"Am I tempting you?" the man whispers huskily, pushing up my shirt so that he may trail his fingers from the bottom of my sternum to the waist of my jeans. He slips his finger past the waist, then stops, giving me a moment to respond. This has to be some sort of test. It has to be. There's no other explanation. Why spend a night like this with me when he can get the same results from someone else? This will only encumber our relationship, whatever relationship it may be.

"What is it that you want, Izaya?" I insist, freeing his hand from my jeans with a firm grip around his wrist. I meet his eyes with cold scrutiny, and he just smiles in that annoying way that ties my stomach in knots.

"You," is all that he says, leaning in so that our foreheads touch. He sounds so believable, and maybe it's just because I want to believe in him, but my mind is telling me not to in a tired, despondent sort of way.

After a long while, after waiting for my head to dissipate the fog and let me think, I just give up. I'm so tired of being tired. I'm so sick of trying to wrap my mind around everything that Izaya does, of trying to convince myself that he honestly and whole-heartedly wants me. I am done.

"Well, I do not want you," I answer without emotion, too ashamed to look him in the eyes as I disentangle myself from his arms and shuffle over to the bed, only to grab a small blanket from it and leave. He takes me by the arm with a gentle yet firm hand, and it's familiar but brand new, like seeing the ocean once again while standing on sand that your bare feet have never walked on before, and then he slips one of his rings onto my finger before closing my hand into a fist with both of his hands.

"I love you. I know you don't believe me, but I do." And then he lets me go.

The door that shuts behind me makes me feel detached and alone.

* * *

The sun does not glare at me. It growls. I can hear the fierceness of it's powerful flames, the explosions of gas on it's surface. The sound is dull, quiet, a soft buzzing in the back of my head that I can easily tune out if I want to. Sometimes I do. Other times I do not.

The sun is very far away. It is not in the sky above, a place that maybe I could touch if I tried hard enough. No, it is far beyond that. It is not up. It is not down. It is just very, very far away. So how can I hear it? My ears are exceptionally sensitive, yet I cannot hear every sound of the planet on which my feet are grounded. Perhaps the noise is in my head. Maybe it's the sound of my brain. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I need to go to the doctor's and get my ears checked out.

The sun will die one day. It is not immortal. It will not last forever. Its own strength will prove to be the cause of its death. It is powerful, but it will devour itself when there is nothing left to devour. Flames contain a destructive kind of beauty, so when the time does come when the bright star collapses in on itself, it will be loud and brilliant and magnificent, and it will take the entire solar system with it.

The sun is like Izaya in that manner. And it is following me.

I feel like the atmosphere around me is foreboding. Ghostly fingers reach through my chest and pull at my heart, tightening their grip, pulling away from the direction I am walking in. I keep pulling away.

"Let's see," I muse, pulling out the note from my pocket. It is a list of things Izaya wanted me to get. He left it on the counter for me when I woke up. In order to punish him for 'coming on to me' last night, I had resolved to not get any of the items on the list, but I realized that I actually need most of them myself. Of course, he failed to leave any money, so I have to use my own.

The sun continues to growl at me, but now it is glaring as well. Earlier it had been peeking behind a thick veil of fluffy clouds, but they have parted and the sun is now free to kiss the land. I should have brought a parasol, because I am almost certain that I am going to get burned. The glare is painful, stinging my eyes and causing black and white blotches to cloud my vision, and I squint them while raising a hand to shield the rays.

A few hours later and the sun is still reigning high in the sky and I have just finished my shopping. Carrying around several bags filled with various assorted things, all ranging in size and weight, is a difficult feat for me to accomplish, and it'll be even more difficult for me to bring it back to Izaya's condo.

There is that pull again, but now it's pulling me away from Izaya's condo, which actually comes as a surprise to me. Animals have instincts that tell them to run away from predators, whereas I usually run towards the scary monsters.

_'I will listen to you,'_ I think, hoping that these "ghosts," as I have decided to call them, can hear me. The tugging on my heart is gone now, leaving nothing in its chilling wake except for emptiness, nothing left to obey. In those few moments, I had almost forgotten who I am, or rather who I am not; the ghosts had given me sensation, and now it is gone.

Blonde hair. Coffee colored eyes. Cigarette smoke dancing in the gentle breeze.

Everything moves in slow motion, like a scene in a movie, and I am suddenly aware of all that is around me, from each of the faces of the passersby to every crack in the sidewalk. And, most especially, him.

There were no ghosts pulling me away from my new home, the home of the soulless and the heartless. No, they were not ghosts, but thin strings made of unbreakable steel, and they were bringing me to my Guardian Angel.

I almost forgot what this felt like. Not feeling empty, yet not exactly feeling complete, just a quiet medium. A cup that is half full.

Shizuo.

"Heiwa...jima-san."

A half smoked cigarette rests between full lips set into a hard line, an expression of forced equanimity, freshly dyed hair the color of the sun. I find myself wanting to pluck that cigarette from his mouth, throw it on the ground and put it out beneath my worn down shoe, and yell at him for entertaining such a harmful habit. But I hold back, I settle for the formal introductions despite our familiarity, and wait for him to reply. I don't know if everything is still in slow motion, because it seems to take a few moments for him to respond.

"Shimizu-san."

It feels like I have been stabbed in the heart, not with a knife but with a million needles, all entering in different places. Unfamiliarty. Honorifics. Last names. I thought he would have scolded me and say something like, "You know better than that, Mizuki. Just call me Shizuo." I guess Shizuo has not forgiven me for what I have done.

I want to look down, because I can feel his eyes boring holes into me through his sunglasses, can faintly see the light brown irises through them, but I force myself to meet his gaze. I am not going to say this is not difficult, or that I do not have a fleeting urge to run away from this spot, find a desolate corner of Ikebukuro to curl up into a ball and have a panic attack in peace.

Instead, I try again.

"Shizuo."

A few more moments of predicted silence. He lifts his hand, inhales and takes a long, slow drag, then takes the cigarette between his index and middle finger, finally tossing it on the ground. He keeps staring at me, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, head tilted downwards because of our vast height difference, but does not look down on me like one would with someone they detest and have deemed lesser.

I step on the cigarette and put it out.

He takes a few steps forward, leaving a meter of distance between us, and removes a few of the bags from me. I know he could have easily carried every one of them, yet I appreciate that he let me bear the weight as well. We share all of our burdens with each other.

"Mizuki."

There are no words to express how I feel right now. I am not sad. I am not happy. I'm not angry or hopeful or content or even indifferent, and nor is he. How long has it been since I last saw him? Not too long. Just a little over two weeks, but it feels like forever, almost as if I had never met him before, yet he's still very familiar, like coming face to face with someone you recognize from TV.

I realize that if Shizuo is carrying my bags he'll have to come with me to Izaya's condo to drop them off.

"You do not have to carry those. I am bringing them back to Izaya's place," I say, breaking the awkward silence with a statement that will probably cause more tension. He clenches his jaw, and I can tell is taking all he has got to remain calm. I commend him for that.

"I'm assuming the flea's out?" he mutters under his breath. I nod, to which he shrugs and says, "Then I'll just bring the stuff there and leave."

"Please do not trash the place," I mumble, readying myself to say something cruel. "I live there, too, now."

Shizuo handles the three bags that he has with one hand so that he can give me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it." Stunned by this display of affability, I stand still for a moment as he walks past me towards the direction of Izaya's place, his gait steady and nonchalant. Without waiting for me or looking back, he calls out, "You coming?"

Shaking my head as though doing so would dispel my thoughts, I walk a bit more hurriedly to catch up with him. "Yeah."

I kind of want to smile right now, but something soon happens that freezes my face into the emotionless mask it was before.

We have been walking for around twenty minutes and are almost near the condo. I look up anxiously at my blonde companion, wondering what expression is written on his face, and see nothing. He carries himself in a manner akin to my own. A quiet disposition, kind of like sleep walking. Is his heart sleeping like mine? Will it ever wake up?

He notices me staring at him and looks down at me, raising a brow. Unlike myself, he's aspectabund. "You're staring. There something on my face?" His words are tired and lazy, his sentences unfinished fragments. I direct my vision ahead of me so that I don't run into anything.

"No."

He sighs, dragging his hand down his face. "Look, Mizuki. You might think that I'm holding something against you because of what happened a few weeks ago, but that doesn't matter now." He pauses, thinking of a way to rephrase his words. "Well, it does matter, but what I'm trying to say is that I forgive you."

"But I do not forgive myself," I reply quickly, and it makes him even more annoyed than he already is. I soon regret my words. It is not like me to admit my feelings and bare myself. I'm not one to wear my heart on my sleeve because my feelings, no matter how and seldom they come, get me in trouble.

The blonde shoves me in the shoulder a little. "Get over it," he mutters. His hand now slowly falls from my shoulder, glides down my arm in an almost unnoticeable way, until it finds my hand. Acting as though this was not his intention, he hesitates, then holds my hand. It's warm and familiar against my cold palm, and I hold it back. It's moments like these that blind me, numb me. That warmth settles into my body like it belongs there, travels up my arm and through my veins until it reaches my heart, where the heat becomes concentrated and powerful. I've always hated the heat. I've found it suffocating and crushing, too invading, but the warmth he brings is different. It's like a fire on a cold night. Like the sun at dawn. If only this sunrise could last forever.

There's a screech of tires, but it's drowned out in all the noise of the city. No one stops talking, horns don't stop beeping, but I really wish they would so that I could listen closer. There was something behind that awful noise that had caught my attention, but it was so fast and hardly audible that I couldn't place my finger on what it was.

"Something wrong?" Shizuo asks when I stop in my tracks. A few people bump into us, disrupted from their mindless walking, but continue on their path after they regain their footing.

I look around, eyes scanning for anything suspicious, but seeing nothing. "No."

"Then why'd you stop?" he asks, tugging on my arm a little.

"Just thought I heard something," I say, letting him lead me away from the spot.

There it is again. It is a growl, but it also sounds like thunder. It's painful to listen to although it is not loud. Can anyone else hear it? I look up at Shizuo, hoping to see a change in his expression, but none is there. Maybe it's the sun that's making those noises again.

Then there's a screech, but it isn't quite a screech. It's like the tearing of metal, of nails scratching across a chalkboard, like sharpening knives on each other. It's a signal.

"Shizuo," I nearly groan, stopping in my tracks, digging my heels into the ground, though I might as well be trying to stop a rhino. He notices the pull though, and looks at me again. He doesn't get annoyed with me for stopping him again. Instead, he looks concerned, and lets go.

"What's up?" he looks around us, trying to find an unforeseen threat.

It steps from the shadows, and I wonder how I hadn't smelled it earlier because it reeks of death and decay. Shizuo smells it too, wrinkling his nose and covering his face with his arm. "God, what _is _that?" he groans, crouching slightly like he's about to retch.

Then, the souls begin their assault.

There it is again. The breathlessness, the choking, the nausea that heats my blood to a boil. The feeling of death, but not actually dying. The overbearing weight of a million souls struggling, scratching, screaming, is my divine punishment, and so is the feeling of helplessness that comes with it. I'm tired of it already. I'm so tired that I just give up.

Something warm touches my hand, brings me back to my senses, and the darkness of Hell's shadow fades from my eyes, and I feel weightless, not weighed down. The anchors are unchained from my feet, and I'm floating, with only this warmth keeping me tethered to the ground. It's Shizuo's hand. I can tell, because I've memorized the callouses on the tips of his fingers, the path of the lines that embellish his palm, and I will never forget them.

"Mizuki, you all right?" he asks almost frantically. His head then whips towards the direction of the undead creature Mammon, and there's a bit of recognition in his eyes behind all that anger. "Wait here," he says after angling me behind him then releasing me. I panic for a moment because I'm afraid that the souls will start attacking again. There's something about his presence that wards them off, that dispels the spirits who taunt me with their woe and desperation. Thankfully, surprisingly, I remain stabilized.

"Yes," I respond automatically, following in his footsteps as he progresses towards Mammon.

"Mizuki, I can handle this," Shizuo barks, then silences himself and looks for the nearest weapon; a slightly rusted, crimson red stop sign. With a single hand, he tears it from the concrete ground and spins it above his head like a windmill. He once only harnessed brute strength, but the way he maneuvers the post in the air, cutting the wind with it, readying himself to cut through flesh and bone with it, suggests that he's picked up a few tricks from these streets.

Mammon's arrival explains the growl I heard moments ago, but what was the source of that horrific, familiar screech?

Metal. It was the sound of metal, that I am certain of. I hear it again. And I'm not going to wait for it to show itself.

"What are you doing?" the blonde calls after me as a run past him and into the path of Mammon, and he makes a grab for me, but his fingers just barely graze the sleeve of my shirt.

He's about ready to chase after me, probably to protect me from this demon, but I yell without looking behind me. "Watch my back!"

There's the distinct grinding of teeth coming from where he stands, and he sighs loudly then grumbles, "Yeah, whatever. Do what you want." The next thing that happens is Mammon getting the blunt end of a stop sign swung at his face.

As I pass their battle, I round the nearest corner, the one from which Mammon had emerged, shoes skidding on the pavement as I do so, bumping unceremoniously into Izaya.

_'Fuck._'

He steadies me by holding onto my upper arms, and takes a step back to take in my sight. "I can honestly say that I wasn't expecting that," he jokes, and something stings me. I tear my eyes from his to look at my arm, seeing his prized flick blade held between two of his fingers. His head tilts at a slight angle, and he laughs a little at my injury. "Whoops. Didn't mean that." He had sliced through my shirt and kissed my flesh with his blade, but it's shallow and insincere. My shirt is black and long sleeved, so the stain hardly shows up.

"What is it that you want, Izaya?" I inquire, noticing that this may be a reoccurring question. I half expect him to lean down and kiss me, but instead, his lips come close to my ear, and he whispers sweetly.

_"Everything." _

Then he disappears.

"You..." Shizuo growls, and although he is not in my sights, it's safe to say that it's in response to Izaya's arrival. Foreboding. There's a thick cloud of despair and foreboding hanging above our small, acquainted group, and when it rains, it's going to pour.

There's a dull bang and the ringing of metal. Shizuo must have hit Mammon with his makeshift weapon, yet I hear no retaliation.

Izaya chuckles lightly, now standing at a safe length away from Shizuo, and a long, painful distance away from me. It feels like I'm about to tear into two. "Now, now, Shizu-chan. I'd prefer it if you didn't rough up my toy soldier."

The other male laughed sardonically. "How 'bout I rough you up instead?"

When I step from the shadows, rest my eyes upon this scene, everything goes into motion. Izaya glances at me from the corner of his eye, wearing a smile for my sake, and he points at Shizuo with his infamous flick blade, but I feel as though it's aimed at me instead. A selfish thought. "Mammon."

It's the cue to start the show, and what a show this will be. It's like 'action' or 'fire,' a command spoken by the ringleader of circus freaks. These are our roles. Izaya's that ringleader, Mammon's the lion, Shizuo's the tamer, and I'm just a spectator.

There's this beast, and it rears its ugly head and bares its cursed teeth. It moves like a snake, and its eyes are like Medusa's, for they paralyze those who stare into them. It has the body of a man, the horns of a demon, and it is such a pitiful thing that should be shot for its own sake. It sees the prey, and it strikes.

There's a bit of beauty in all of this. Maybe it's because of the way Shizuo's eyes come into focus, or the way he moves to shield the center of his body, or the way he glances at me for a quick moment like he's trying to make sure I'm alright. He's such an idiot, and I laugh at him, but I cry a little too because I'll miss him when he's gone.

"The hell-?" Shizuo grimaces when Mammon's body slams into him, his shoes skidding on the pavement as he's pushed back. He instinctively tries to reach for Mammon's neck, fingers searching for flesh, seeking blood and bruised skin and broken bones, but all they find is a handful of air, and they starve.

This isn't some synchronized dance, or a choreographed fight for a movie. This is real, and it's immortalized by the wounds that result from it. Shizuo's bleeding, and that's a bad sign, because it means that Mammon might have sunk his teeth into his skin, or scratched through the surface with his nails. All that's left to do is pray, pray that angels such as Shizuo are immune to this curse, that their souls are too powerful to permit another into their holy vessels. If only I wasn't a condemned sinner. If only my very existence was not the bane of all who I cross paths with. Perhaps then I would have a god to pray to.

_'Why am I standing here, doing nothing?' _

I look towards Izaya for the answer because he always seems to have one. He has a wealth of knowledge in that head of his. After all, he is an informant.

I don't find any answers. I used to be able to read those eyes so well, but now they're so empty and distant. Cold, even, though his gaze isn't on me. It's like he's watching me instead of Shizuo and Mammon.

_'I don't understand.'_

Shizuo's panting hard, takes a quick breath before Mammon strikes again, though Shizuo easily parries him with his forearm and aims his fist upwards towards his jaw. He makes contact, and Mammon's head snaps up, but Shizuo hisses in pain and squeezes his fist after the impact. His knuckles are split and weep blood, and pain is emanating from his body. I can feel it.

After running a quick analysis, I have determined the extent of both Mammon and Shizuo's injuries. Mammon has received severe blunt trauma to the head, a comminuted fracture of the clavicle, and various contusions. He also appears to have congenital analgesia, a rare condition in which a person cannot feel pain.

As for Shizuo, the only injuries he has sustained other than the damage he inflicted himself to his hands are minor contusions and a few scratches. The most severe injury he has is the result of punching Mammon in the jaw. He ended up breaking four of his fingers. However, the scratches are what most concern me, though upon closer inspection, it is obvious that his body has not been infiltrated by any foreign entities. He had abandoned his crude weapon long ago in order to free his hands.

Shizuo can win this. All he has to do is grab the beast by the horns and twist, breaking its neck.

"Shizuo!" I call out to him, surprised by my sudden outburst. He has his hands full, but pays notice to me.

"What?" he yells back a bit gruffly, readying himself as Mammon, who had been thrown backwards by a powerful hit to his abdomen, rushes towards him.

"Grab his horns!" I believe this is a tactic often used by survivalists. If a horned beast is coming after you, grab it's antlers or horns so that it has limited head movement. Of course, one would have to be wary of getting impaled.

The angel shrugs, and heeds my advice, latching onto Mammon's curved horns when he tries to plow into him. Shizuo is much stronger than Mammon, so he stops him dead in his tracks.

The tides have always been in Shizuo's favor, even from the start of this fight. Had Mammon retained his sanity, he would have been indescribably more powerful than Shizuo, but the River of Styx must have drained him of most of his power. He has the abilities of a C Class demon, whereas before he was an S Class demon. If he had the same abilities as before, Shizuo wouldn't have stood a chance.

Then how did Mammon die?

My fate must be unraveling. My fate is_ dilapidating.  
_

Free will must be an illusion. I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this. So why did I cause all of it in the first place?

Oh, yes. That's right. Because love makes a person do really stupid things.

"God _fucking _damn it," I mutter to myself with utter nemesism and self loathing. This is a terribly inconvenient time to have an epiphany, but it's better late than never.

"You're just standing there," the demon mocks me, still watching the battle intently. "Like an obedient pet."

I carelessly switch my attention from Shizuo to Izaya, foolishly letting my anger get the best of me. "Is that why you've kept me around all this time?" I ask bitterly, wishing my arms were long enough to reach him, though I can't quite decide whether I'd use them to embrace him or squeeze the borrowed life from his body, cut off his oxygen with my fingers locked around his neck, wondering in his last moments if he'd still be smiling. "Because I'm just your bitch?" It's the voice from the nightmares I suffered not too long ago, before my eyes opened. It's my _real _voice. It strikes a chord in him, and even though his heart isn't in his chest, I can still hear it skip a beat. My own heart almost does the same because of that small reaction, but I'm quickly reminded of my resolve. These thoughts and feelings are swinging back and forth like a pendulum, but a single thought remains steady throughout the oscillation.

This is not the person that I want to be, nor is it the person that _Shizuo _needs me to be.

All he does is glance at me for a quick moment, and he's still smiling, but this time it doesn't reach his eyes, and all I can think is _'I did that.'_

"If only that were the case, Mizu-chan."

He saw it, the sudden, ninety degree turn that I just took. He saw it, and he's going to have to do something about it.

Izaya begins walking towards the battle, ignoring my existence. I can't help but be mesmerized by the way he moves, or the way his expression is so determined and resolute. He's so beautiful, and just like a flower, I want to cut him down because of it.

"I...za...ya?" I whisper so low that it's like I'm not even speaking. It's not like he's even paying attention to me anyways.

Shizuo doesn't notice this knew threat. He's too busy trying to fend off Mammon's attacks, which are steadily growing in intensity, strength, and accuracy. Izaya used to be the one keeping me anchored to the ground, but now he's just holding me down.

A scintilla catches my eye. It's the reflection of a knife, glinting in the steady hand of Izaya, but it's not his typical flick blade. It's the switch blade that I bought him for his birthday a few months ago, and there's an enscripture on the blade that reads, _"Koi no yokan." _It's the knowledge upon meeting someone that they will fall in love.

"Izaya..." The name sounds different on my tongue than it did before. It sounds different in my head. Without warning, Mammon sinks his teeth into Shizuo's shoulder, gaining the upper hand, and everything is unraveling at a pace that I can't keep up with.

Time stands still for everyone but Izaya. He walks the line of sanity and insanity, of life and death, of genius and madness. He stands upon the precipice between dark and light, never teetering to either side.

As Izaya plunges the knife into Shizuo's back, his eyes bore into mine with accusation and disgust.

* * *

**[AN] **gah. I'm so disappointed in this chapter. I kept wanting to rewrite it, but it's just been so long since my last update. I seriously need a beta. any offers? c;


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